


The Grey Areas

by muses_circle, xtremeroswellian



Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala [2]
Category: Smallville, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bantering, Chloe's a little bitter, Christmas, F/M, Flirting, Research, Smallville was a weird town, Snow, Teasing, Trust Issues, abominable snowman, brief sex scene, not really descriptive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:06:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muses_circle/pseuds/muses_circle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: While deciding to check into a case in Minnesota involving missing campers, Sam and Dean try to help Chloe deal with the after effects of her brainwashing.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Chloe Sullivan, Past Chloe Sullivan/Clark Kent, Sam Winchester & Chloe Sullivan
Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722754





	The Grey Areas

How they managed to land in International Falls, Minnesota, Dean couldn't figure out. It was as far north as they could go and still be in the United States. Seemed like a good idea at the time, since Chloe was incredibly restless until they actually left Kansas. Watching her now, sitting across from him, while she sipped on her coffee, Dean wondered just how much sleep she'd gotten in the last three days.

"So what's here?" she asked, glancing around the small cafe, looking uneasy, her fingers wound tightly around her mug.

"Lots and lots of... snow," Dean replied casually, looking out the window and the white wonderland. Snow. Just what he wanted.

Sam, who had been glancing through the newspaper the entire time, looked up and over at Chloe. "We've got something... not sure what." He laid the paper down and pushed it over to her.

She glanced at him, then set her mug down and scanned the article. A short chuckle escaped her. "Come on. Seriously?" She arched her eyebrows.

Pointing to the paper, Sam laughed. "Eyewitness reports of a really large, white, hairy monster? Yeah, I'd say that's the Abominable Snowman."

Dean snorted. "Lovely. We're going after a large, fuzzy, man-eating bear."

"Okay, first off, isn't...the Abominable Snowman supposed to be in the Himalayas?"

Dean looked at Chloe. "According to legend, there IS a North American version of him. The original Abominable Snowman is actually from the Himalayas, but its got family here."

She almost laughed again. "Well maybe they're just preparing for a Christmas reunion."

Sam chuckled at the look Dean gave Chloe. "Nothing like Christmas to get the family together, right?"

Dean glared at his brother. "Has this thing killed anyone yet?"

"Uh, not according to the paper... wait." Sam paused, reading it more thoroughly. "Looks like a couple hiking in the Lake Ockabogie area have gone missing, near where the sighting was located."

"They could've just gotten lost," she pointed out. "Happens all the time." Was she actually being skeptical? That was a first.

"Yeah, I'm with Chloe," Dean said, agreeing with her for a change, which surprised him. "Who's to say these two didn't just find some abandoned cabin in the mountains for a little one-on-one time?"

Grimacing, Sam gave Dean a pointed look. "Dude, remember the last time we encountered a Bigfoot-type creature and the people who kept disappearing?"

Chloe looked between them, then raised her hand a little. "Gonna need an explanation. Only known you guys a week," she reminded them.

Sighing, Dean looked at Chloe. "We were in Colorado, hunting this thing called a Wendigo. It lived in the forest and liked to snack on people." He turned back to Sam and smirked. "You really think it's another one of those?"

"Dude, we're here," Sam protested, "isn't it worth checking out?"

Chloe shrugged a little, picking up her coffee once more. "He's got a point." She gazed at Dean.

Dean found himself agreeing with Chloe for the second time today, which surprised him. "I know he does," he replied. "Might as well check it out while we're here. Even though the Impala's gonna have to be washed all the time now." He grumbled over the thought of his baby's paint job getting grubby.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Can you be more immature, dude?" he asked.

"Hey, it's a nice car," Chloe said, sipping her latte.

Dean grinned at her without thinking. "Ah, here's a woman who appreciates true beauty," he said, his eyes twinkling at the compliment. He had a feeling she didn't offer those a lot. 

"Sure," Sam replied, folding up the paper. "Let's get out of here. I need to hit the public library to see if there is a pattern of occurrences." He looked pointedly at Chloe. "And it looks like you could use about two days of sleep."

"I'm fine," she replied automatically, finishing her drink and setting some money on the table for a tip.

Sam knew better, but he let it go. He'd been watching her ever since they left Topeka. The run-in with that demented preacher had definitely left its mark. He could tell she hadn't been sleeping at night, because she often tried to doze off in the car. The fact that she and Dean weren't really talking to each other didn't help matters, either. But that was their issue, he decided, getting the check from the waitress.

Dean whipped out the cash for the bill and set them on the table. "Let's find a place to crash, okay?" He shot a sideways look at Chloe, wondering when she had gotten so damn pale.

"I saw a motel a couple miles back," Chloe offered, raking a hand through her hair as they headed for the exit.

"Works for me," Dean replied, opening the car doors and holding it open for her to get into the back of the Impala.

"Thanks," she murmured, climbing into the backseat and not bothering to put her seatbelt on as she suppressed a yawn.

Sam smiled at the small gentlemanly gesture Dean just performed. He wondered if he even was aware that he did it. Taking the passenger door, he got in as he watched Chloe watch Dean get into the driver's seat. Starting the engine, his brother drove the Impala out of the parking lot and out onto the wet, icy road. Though the hotel wasn't that far from the cafe, it took awhile to get there, because the roads were a bit slick.

Within an hour, all three were safely ensconced in a large suite of rooms. It was different, having three separate bedrooms along with an eating and sitting area, which included a fireplace.

"So what's our first move?" Chloe asked after she placed her bags and laptop in one of the rooms.

"Besides warm this freaking place up?" Dean asked, not looking at her. He stared at the rather large central room, a little impressed with the place.

"I'd say food, then research," Sam replied, putting his stuff in one of the empty bedrooms.

She immediately headed toward the fireplace, shivering involuntarily as she moved to build a fire.

Sam watched as Dean started staring at Chloe as she found the matches and newspaper to start the fire and grinned. "She's a woman of many talents," he whispered to his brother.

Dean just nodded, impressed at how deft she was with starting a fire. "I'd ask if you needed help, but looks like you've got it taken care of," he remarked casually to Chloe.

"We had a fireplace at home," she admitted, not looking at him as she moved to stand back and stare into it.

"I'm going to go out and get something to eat," Sam said, feeling a sudden tension rise in the room. "Gimme the keys, Dean."

Dean threw him a look. "You better bring her back without a scratch, dude." He threw Sam the keys.

"Yeah, I know, you'll kill me if she gets scratched." He mumbled a few other choice words under his breath as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

For several moments, Dean just stared at Chloe, watching the firelight play on her face, as the rest of the room was shadowed from the growing night.

"Something wrong?" she asked softly, feeling his gaze on her though she didn't turn to look at him.

Snapping out of his reverie, he looked away. "Nothing," he replied, moving towards the fire to sit on the couch. "Just admiring the... fire."

Nodding slightly, she let out a breath and sunk down into one of the chairs, curling her legs up beneath her.

He sighed. "Awkward," he muttered, sneaking a glance in her direction. She looked small, sitting in that chair alone, still shivering from the chill in the air.

"Wonder what Sam's getting for dinner."

"Knowing him, probably something involving red meat," he replied with a small shrug. "You need a blanket?" he asked her when he saw her shiver again.

"No, I'm good."

Shaking his head slightly, he turned back to stare at the fire. He wanted her to say something... anything... but she remained silent. He frowned. "Fire's nice."

She winced a little, rubbing her temples without thinking about it. "Yeah. Getting warmer already."

"Headache?" he inquired, worried at the pained look on her face. He knew it was the remnants of the last dose of brainwashing, and he hoped that damn preacher was rotting in a jail somewhere.

"Yeah," she admitted, shutting her eyes. "I think I'm gonna take some aspirin and go to bed."

"Maybe that's best," he whispered, getting up and searching for the bottle of aspirin from his bag to give to her.

"I've got some," Chloe told him, slowly standing up, and watching him.

"Take mine," he replied, walking out and putting it in her hands. His fingers lightly brushed hers, making him hover over the touch a fraction before standing back.

"Thanks," she whispered, taking the bottle and looking up at him in the semi-darkness of the room.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Dean took a deep breath. Her troubled green eyes pierced him in the darkness, nearly bringing him to his knees. Literally. Looking down at her, he whispered, "Sure you don't wanna talk about what's going on behind those beautiful eyes?"

"I'm just tired," she whispered. "I think I'm gonna turn in. Thanks for the painkillers."

Nodding, he never took his eyes off her. God, she looks so fragile, he thought, reaching out to put a gentle hand on her arm. What was worse, he didn't know how to break through this barrier she'd set around herself, keeping them separated. Because he knew she felt something for him. 

Chloe swallowed hard as he touched her arm gently. "Goodnight," she whispered, pulling away and moving toward her room.

He bowed his head, feeling the rejection behind her withdrawal. He didn't try to follow her, but asked loudly, "You planning on talking to me again?" His voice betrayed the hurt he felt.

She paused in her tracks, then slowly turned around to face him. "Why wouldn't I?" she asked, sounding truly confused.

Turning his dark eyes on her, he shrugged slightly. "I don't know. You tell me." Involuntarily taking a step towards her, he continued, "You keep me at a distance."

Her gaze turned to one of wary tiredness. "I keep everyone at a distance. Don't take it personally."

"And what about those people who don't want to stay distant?"

Chloe simply gazed at him without answering. Because she didn't know how to answer.

He felt his words slam up against her mental wall, and suddenly, he was too tired to try to make her do something she clearly didn't want to do. Make her feel something she didn't. His usually stoic face turned almost sad. "Well, goodnight, then," he replied, turning away from her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered almost inaudibly. Then she headed to her room without waiting for a response.

Sitting down, Dean stared into the fire and waited for Sam to get back to the hotel. He closed his eyes, trying to keep his thoughts from the woman in the room next to his. Someone who had crept into his heart very quickly, though she didn't seem to return those feelings. He didn't understand why she was so wary around him, why she was so distrusting.

He suddenly thought about that guy who had broken her heart, Clark, and wondered if he was the source of all her issues. His hands clenched into fists, knowing if he ever met this guy, he'd probably kill him. He was still sitting there, eyes shut, when he heard the front door open.

Sam stepped inside and shut the door behind him, dropping a large sack of burgers on the table by the sofa. "Where's Chloe?"

"She went to bed," he replied in a tired, dull voice, looking up at his brother. He tried turning off his mind from thinking about what she'd been through, but not before a dark look passed over his face.

Casting a worried glance toward the hallway, Sam's eyebrows furrowed a little. "She's gotta be hungry. She didn't eat breakfast or lunch."

"I know, dude," he replied, standing up and grabbing something out of the bag. "I know. Maybe you can take her something. She... doesn't want to see me."

Annoyed, Sam shook his head. "The two of you are gonna have to start dealing with each other. I'm not gonna be monkey in the middle forever."

"Sammy, it's not like I haven’t tried to talk to her," Dean snapped in response, taking a large bite of the burger. "She's got a wall that's harder to crack than freakin' Fort Knox. The brainwashing episode hasn't helped, either, I'll bet."

"Yeah so what the hell makes you think she's gonna open up to me?"

"Take it from the shared experience approach, I dunno," he replied, running a frustrated hand through his hair. It was that guy. He knew it was.

"Look, man, I'll do what I can, but... they didn't take me down to that room, Dean."

"I'm aware of that, Sam, but that damn preacher... he did something to her. Shut her down. Made her think more about... why she ran from her home." He grabbed another burger out of the bag but put it down, his appetite gone.

He was silent for a moment, gazing at his brother intently. "I'll talk to her," he said quietly, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder briefly before heading down the hall, carrying a burger from the sack he'd brought back.

"Thanks, dude," Dean whispered, hoping Chloe would trust Sam, because if she didn't open up to someone, he was afraid of what might happen to her.

Burger in hand, Sam gently knocked on Chloe's door. "Chlo, you need to eat something," he said.

Sighing softly, Chloe's eyes remained shut as she lay on her side facing away from the door. "Come on in, Sam."

He hesitantly opened the door and walked inside. He noticed she hadn't moved from her position on the bed, which concerned him as well. "It's a burger, but it's better than nothing," he said softly, moving to stand over her.

"I'm not really hungry, but I appreciate the offer."

Sam frowned, somehow knowing she would tell him that. "Not to sound all mother hen-like, but... you haven't eaten all day."

"That's because I haven't been hungry all day."

Sam smirked at her sarcastic yet dull tone of voice. "Look, I'm going to need your help with this, because Dean doesn't do well with the research," he said in a serious, concerned tone of voice. "You can't do that if you're not taking care of yourself."

"I'll be fine, Sam. I'm just tired and I have a headache. I'll be ready to go by sunrise. I promise."

"I don't believe you, but I'm not gonna make you talk to me." He put the wrapped sandwich on the nightstand next to the aspirin and glass of water. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" He waited to see if she would turn around to look at him, but when she didn't, he sighed softly and turned to go.

"Night, Sam," she whispered, shutting her eyes once more.

"Night, Chloe," he whispered. "I hope you can learn to trust me and Dean. We're decent guys, you know." With that, he left her room, shutting the door behind him.

A soft sob escaped her and she buried her face in the pillow. Some part of her believed that, deep down. She just didn't trust herself enough to see it as truth.

&&&&&

Dean was up early the next morning, his mind not letting him sleep much. He was putting on the coffee, making a strong pot, when he saw Chloe come out of her room. Not looking at her, he went towards the fireplace to make another fire, since the room was cold despite the centralized heating unit. "Morning," he said matter-of-factly.

"Morning," she murmured back, immediately heading for the coffee pot. She poured herself a mug and shut her eyes as she took a small sip.

Glancing at the hallway and wondering when Sam was going to get up, he poked at the fire to get it started. Even after the fire was lit, he remained in a crouching position, wondering when the incredible awkwardness of her presence would pass. Or if it would.

She let out a slow breath, moving into the room where he was crouched in front of the fireplace. She slowly sunk down onto the same chair she'd curled up in the night before, cradling the mug in her hands.

Back to where we left off, he thought, listening to her sit down behind him. "How'd you sleep?" he asked in a plain voice, remaining where he was, not daring to look at her.

"Good," she lied with a soft ease that was all too familiar. She wondered when she'd gotten to be so damn good at lying. "You?"

"Fine," he replied, knowing she was lying to him. So why not lie back? It was something he was so good at, he thought ruefully as he stood and moved to the coffee pot in the mini kitchen.

Yeah, right, she thought, sighing softly and shutting her eyes, letting the warmth of her drink heat her hands.

Taking a long sip of the coffee, which was probably the grossest stuff he'd ever drunk, Dean made a face. "God, I could use this as motor oil. Think I'm going to go get breakfast." He turned to face her, his eyebrow cocked. "Don't suppose... you wanna come with me?" It was a long shot, but he figured he'd give it another try.

"Yeah, okay," she said without hesitating, not even thinking about it.

Dean blinked in surprise, a hesitant smile crossing his features. "Uh... okay," he stammered, grabbing his jacket and looking out the window. "Better put warm things on. Looks damn cold out there."

"Well, we are pretty far north," she said with a faint smirk as she slowly rose to her feet and moved to get her coat. "And it's winter."

Dean made a carefully playful face at her. "Thanks for the tip, Matlock," he said, pulling on his jacket and grabbing his keys. "I'll keep that in mind." He went to the door and opened it, waiting for her to go out first.

Flashing him a grin she headed out the door, zipping her coat on the way as she made her way around to the passenger side of the Impala.

For the life of him, he'd never understand women. He watched her waiting for him at the car, a strange sparkle in her eyes. He wondered what had gotten into her as he moved towards her, unlocking the passenger side door and opening it for her.

"Thanks." She slid into the car, fastening her seatbelt and rubbing her hands together in an effort to get them warm as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Don't worry. My baby heats up fast," he stated with a proud smirk as he started up the Impala and put it into gear. "What's for breakfast?" he asked, pulling out onto the road.

"Decent coffee for one," she teased.

Dean couldn't suppress the laugh that escaped his lips. "Yeah, tell me about it. That stuff could put hair on your chest."

"I seem to recall you saying you liked that on a woman," she said with a smirk, looking out the window. "Which, by the way, is slightly disturbing."

"It's only disturbing if you actually believed me," he replied with a stuttering laugh, sneaking a look over at her. He was enjoying their banter way too much, he realized suddenly. Made him want to speed this trip up, though the roads were treacherous, at best.

"I don't know, sometimes when you think someone's kidding, they're really somewhat serious and don't want anyone to know it," she said with a short chuckle.

Dean snorted with laughter. "Sweetheart, I'm ninety percent smartass. Just ask Sam. He'd tell you I don't have a serious bone in my body." At the first fast-food place, Dean pulled into the parking lot and into the drive-thru.

"Well, that's refreshing." She grinned and looked out the window.

Dean ordered food for them and pulled ahead to pay. "Yeah, I'm a regular breath of fresh air," he commented sarcastically, not knowing how to respond to her playfulness, aside from what he was doing at the moment. He had the feeling she'd bolt if he tried to be serious with her. 

Chloe glanced at him sideways, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You have no idea."

Handing the money over to the drive-thru clerk and grabbing the coffees from the kid, he handed them to her with a flirtatious smile. "You gonna give me an idea?" he asked.

"Maybe if you're lucky."

Dean wanted to play his cards right so he could get lucky. Very lucky. Handing her the bag of breakfast food, he replied, "Looking forward to that day," and took off back towards the hotel.

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Someone has a one track mind."

"Have no idea what you're talking about, Chloe," he replied with a playful, mocking innocent tone. He turned and smiled at her, nevertheless, with what he considered his best smile, lazy yet determined.

She gazed at him with mixed emotions hidden within the depths of her green eyes. "Sure you don't."

He noticed the change in her eyes and knew the moment had passed. And true to his belief, she pulled back the moment he pushed. "It's okay, you know. I'm not going to bite." He grimaced at how that came out as he said that, turning his eyes back to the road. 

"Good to know," she said vaguely, staring out the window. "I'd prefer not to have to deal with anymore vampires."

"I'm not even gonna ask how you know about vamps, but I didn't mean that literally." Pulling into the hotel parking lot, he continued. "I meant... I'm not the ogre you probably think I am."

"I don't think you're an ogre, Dean," she said very softly.

He had barely heard the comment but felt slightly warmed by it. "Good to know," he said casually, pulling into a parking space and shutting off the Impala. Turning to look at her, he asked, "You going to eat today?"

Chloe shrugged a little. "I'm still not really hungry but I'll eat some toast."

"With eggs," he insisted, following her into the hotel room. "Sam'll kick my butt if he knew his research partner wasn't strong enough to help out because she won't eat."

"I hardly ever eat breakfast."

Dean gave her a look. "Fine, More for me." He threw the bag on the small table and started digging into the bag. He looked around. "Sam's still in bed?"

"Give him a break. It's been a long few days," she said softly, glancing toward his room.

"He's also the one who insisted that the Abominable Snowman was responsible for the disappearance of two people," Dean insisted. "Been a long couple days for all of us." He gave her a pointed look. Especially for her.

"Good point," Chloe admitted. "I'll go wake him up."

He nodded, watching her walk away. Somehow the gears had been shifted on him, and he was thrown back into the passenger seat. When had she become the driver? he wondered.

Twenty minutes later Chloe was researching the Abominable Snowman on her laptop while the guys munched on the food Dean had picked up.

Dean was full from the food he'd eaten, and though he had stoked the fire again, he was getting antsy for another hunt. "Find anything yet?" he asked Sam.

"Dude, chill," he replied, not looking up from his laptop. "You know this stuff takes time."

"In the past two years there've been about six sightings of this...whatever it is. But no one's ever actually gotten any evidence on it," Chloe informed them as she read an article.

"Aside from a few vague descriptions," Sam replied, pulling up a few of the eyewitness accounts that usually ended up being nothing more than smoke and mirrors. "Yeah, big, white, shaggy hair, tall... scary looking." He laughed a little. "This one claims it looks like a polar bear on crack."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm so not touching that one."

"It also says he was under the influence of alcohol while on a hunting trip," Chloe said wryly. "Very reliable source they picked."

"Kinda like the woman in the muumuu describing how the twister ran through her front yard," Dean replied with a sarcastic smirk.

"Strange," Sam replied with a frown as he pulled up a search result from Google. "These things don't seem... dangerous."

"Yeah sometimes appearances are deceiving," Chloe said with a hint of bitterness as she continued to search on her computer.

Sam looked at Chloe in surprise. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, worry creasing his brow.

Dean had a feeling he knew who she was talking about, but he wisely remained silent. He didn't want to get into an argument right now, not when they were trying to figure out how to hunt this... monster.

"Long story," she answered vaguely, not looking up. "So is this thing like the arctic version of Bigfoot?"

"Basically," Sam replied, staring at her for a moment before looking back at his laptop. "Oh, and it's not the first time this thing has been seen in this area." He pushed the screen towards Dean, who had moved to stand behind Chloe.

"Yeah I've come across several articles that mention sightings, but this is the first time there's been an actual disappearance," she said, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Not... exactly," Dean said, staring at Sam's laptop. "According to county records, there was a couple that disappeared forty years ago. Around the time this thing had been spotted." He read further. "Sounds like someone at the local paper tried to put these two things together, but the cops didn't listen." He snorted in derision. "Nice job."

"So this thing eats once every forty years?" She raised an eyebrow, glancing at him briefly.

He shrugged, moving the laptop back towards Sam. "Sounds like it."

"Could be these other ‘sightings’ are just hoaxes, and it really only comes out as needed to feed." Sam grimaced at his own words, feeling squeamish about that. Even though he had seen much worse.

"Plenty of places to hide in mountains filled with forests and caves. So now the question is how the hell are we gonna find it?"

"Sam, where was this most recent disappearance?" Dean asked.

"Near Lake Ockabogie," Sam told him, then looked at his screen. "Oh man."

"What is it?" Chloe asked, glancing over at him.

"That couple that disappeared forty years ago? They'd been hiking in the same area." Sam looked up at them. "I say we start there."

Dean nodded. "I agree. I noticed a park visitor center when we got to town. We can get maps and stuff before hitting the grounds."

"Bundle up, boys. It's cold out." She rose to her feet and headed back toward her room to start packing some gear.

Dean watched Chloe get up and leave the room, not saying anything. "I don't get her," he whispered to himself. He glanced over at Sam, who was powering down his computer.

Sam watched her go as well, then glanced at his brother. "Everyone deals with trauma differently," he said meaningfully.

"Don't start with me, Sammy," he warned, seeing that look and frowning. Oh, in so many ways did he not want to talk about Dad. Again.

He shrugged, the ever-present-worry still in his eyes. "I'm gonna get packed up to go."

"Dude, I'm fine," Dean said quietly, heading for his room to get his gear.

"Sure you are. And so is Chloe." He didn't wait for a response before heading down the hall.

Shaking his head, Dean went to his room and grabbed his bag. He hated that Sam was way too perceptive for his own good, but what was worse, Dean knew he wasn't okay. How could he hope to help Chloe if he wasn't dealing with... anything? Frowning, he double-checked his weapons in the bag, stuffed extra clothing inside, and zipped it up.

Outside, he found Chloe sitting near the fire, a small bag in hand, her thousand-yard stare into the fire firmly in place.

She was so lost in her own thoughts she didn't even notice his presence. The chirping of her cell phone startled her and she flinched involuntarily before reaching into her coat pocket and staring at the caller ID for a long moment as it rang again. Her eyes distant, she shut it off and tucked it back into her pocket.

Dean watched her, for the second time, not bother to answer her phone, though this time, he had a sneaking suspicion of who it was. "Lemme guess," he said evenly. "Clark, Lana, or Jimmy?"

"None of the above," she answered, not looking up.

"Oh." It was on the tip of his tongue to ask who was calling, but just then Sam chose to walk into the room, his own gear stashed in a bag. Dean grimaced, reminding himself to talk to Sam about his timing when they got back.

"We need to put out the fire before we head out," Sam replied, moving to the fireplace and trying to ignore the thick tension in the room. He made a mental note to study Chloe's actions and find out what was bothering her so much.

Nodding a little, Chloe watched as Sam did just that before she turned and headed toward the door, backpack strapped on her shoulders.

"Dude, shut the door on your way out," Dean said to Sam, watching Chloe leave the room. He followed her to the Impala, where he popped the trunk and opened up the false bottom, revealing their larger stash of weapons. Grabbing a gun, he glanced at Chloe. "Know how to use one of these?"

A wry smile touched her lips as she remembered the last time she handled a gun and nearly shot Jimmy. "Not so much."

"I'll teach you, once we get out to this lake," he replied, putting it in her hands. "The safety's on, so you don't have to worry about it going off. You might need it." He closed the weapons stash cover and put his bag in the trunk.

Chloe glanced at him, holding onto the weapon somewhat uncertainly.

Dean looked back at her and wanted to hug her, thinking that would take the troubled look out of her eyes. "Trust me, okay?" he asked in nearly a pleading tone. "You don't know what we're going to face out there, and I don't want you unarmed. Just put the gun in your bag. It'll be okay."

Drawing in a breath, she tucked the gun into her bag and slid it into the trunk of his car. "Okay."

"Good." He threw her a ghost of a smile. He saw Sam out of the corner of his eye leave their hotel and waited for him to put his stuff in the back.

"You got her armed?" Sam asked, throwing his brother a questioning look.

"Yeah," came the reply as he shut the trunk and walked around to the driver's side.

"Good," Sam replied, moving to open the passenger side. "You sit in front, Chlo."

"It's okay, Sam. I know you hate sitting in the back. And I'm shorter."

Sam smiled at her. "No, you need to sit up front. You'll be safer that way."

"Someone just ride shotgun," Dean grumbled under his breath, starting up the car to warm her.

She gave Sam an odd look before climbing into the passenger seat.

"Finally." Dean checked the rearview mirror and saw Sam looking at him from the backseat: it was a look of determined curiosity, and he understood his brother was fully in research mode. Though... he wasn't sure what he was gathering information on. Pulling out of the hotel parking lot, Dean drove the Impala towards the Voyager National Park Visitor's Center.

Feeling a little anxious, she chewed on her thumbnail as she stared out the window. Despite everything going on, the scenery was amazing and breathtaking. She wished the mountains surrounding them would just swallow her up.

Sam watched Chloe's facial expressions through the side mirror on the Impala. He had never seen someone look so lost, so... distant, he thought. Not since Dad died and Dean had a similar look on his face for awhile. He sighed to himself, wondering if Dean understood how much she was like him. In more ways than one.

Dean cranked up the heat and the music, trying to keep his mind cleared of everything except the hunt at hand. Fortunately, he was able to focus on getting them to the visitor's center and put the woman next to him out of his mind. The only stray thought that went through his mind was how she'd react to being taught how to shoot.

&&&&&

Two hours passed. The Voyager National Park was vast and rocky in places, but overall, Dean found it filled with the secrets of the ages. They'd been trekking through the woods for about an hour, Sam in the lead as he tried to lead them to the place where the couple had last been seen. It was bitterly cold, however, and he was thankful for the warm jacket and gloves.

"Guys, I think we're close," Sam replied, walking in a straightforward direction. "See the clearing ahead? That's where they were last seen, according to reports."

Chloe looked around, setting her bag on the ground for the time being. "I don't see any caves or anything around here."

"The thing might have come out from the forest itself," Dean remarked. "For all we know, it could've dragged the victims from the clearing and into the woods." He glanced at Chloe, who shuddered at the picture he'd painted. "Sorry," he whispered regretfully.

"Not like I haven't seen things like that before," she said grimly, not looking at him. She glanced over at Sam, then turned around in a small circle. "Something's wrong with this picture."

"Aside from the fact that it's open and kinda flat?" Dean asked to himself, watching her walk around.

Sam threw Dean a look but ignored him. "I don't see any tracks. Of any kind," he said to her. "What about you?"

"Listen." She held her hand up to silence them both. The only thing she could hear was the sound of her heart beating in her chest. "It's completely quiet. No birds or anything."

Dean turned his thoughts off and listened to the forest around them. Sure enough, there was no noise. "Well, birds aren't this far north this time of year... but you're right. There's nothing. At all. No movement of any kind." He shot a glance at Sam.

Sam nodded wordlessly, a knowing look on his face. "Its cave is near here, then."

Wonderful, she thought, a cold chill passing over her. She reached down and lifted her bag up once more before strapping it on her back as she looked around. "We could split up." She nodded to the fork in the road--one than led off to the left and the other to the right.

Dean frowned. "There's no way we're splitting up." He looked at her pointedly. "Situations like this? Gotta stick together."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"It was just a suggestion," she replied, not looking at either of them.

"Normally, I'd take that suggestion," he said, deliberately softening his voice, to show that he wanted to listen to her. "But with the cold, the noiseless forest... and I have to teach you how to shoot. It's too dangerous for any of us to be alone right now."

Sam looked over at Dean, knowing if they had been alone, his brother would have done exactly what she'd suggested.

Chloe glanced at him. "Alright. So which way are we going?"

"You choose," he replied, wanting her to give them the option.

She was silent for a moment, looking down each path for a few seconds. Her instincts told her to go left. "This way." She nodded slightly and started off.

Sam smiled. That was the way he was going to suggest had she not said anything. "She's got good instincts," he whispered to Dean.

"She doesn't entirely trust them, though," was all Dean could say as he took off after her.

They trekked down the trail for over an hour before Chloe paused in her tracks at the sight that lay ahead. "Huh. Well, unless the Abominable Snowman lives in a rundown cabin..." She cast both the guys a look over her shoulder before proceeding toward the porch.

Dean noticed the fact that smoke was curling slowing out of the chimney and tried to grab her. "Chloe --" Too late, however. She had already opened the door. He shot up after her, not knowing what they'd find inside.

Her eyes immediately rested on the couple that lay on the floor curled up together in front of the fireplace. "Jinkies, I think we just solved the mystery, guys."

Sam caught up with the other two, who stood in the doorway, watching the two missing people lying on the floor, wrapped up in each other and a blanket. And nothing else. He stifled a laugh. "See? They just wanted a quiet getaway. One-on-one time."

Dean blinked back a laugh himself, his thoughts immediately turning towards that same scene he hoped would happen between him and a certain blonde-haired woman standing in front of him. Clearing his throat, he said quietly, "Think we should get outta here."

"I don't think we're gonna make it back to the hotel before dark," Chloe said, stepping back out of the cabin and onto the rickety porch, leaving the sleeping couple where they lie. A gust of cold wind blew some blonde hair in her eyes and she wiped it away thoughtlessly.

Stepping out into the open again, Sam looked at his watch. "Dude, it's after 4PM. It'll be dark soon."

"I know," Dean replied with a frown, looking around. They sure as hell couldn't share a cabin with two strangers that obviously wanted to be alone. He scanned the area and noticed another building in the distance, behind the cabin. "There," he pointed.

"What is it?" she asked, following his line of sight.

"Looks like another cabin," he replied quietly. "I'm not staying with the two lovebirds in there."

"Dean, we may not have a choice," Sam protested, though secretly he had no burning desire to interrupt the couple's escape from reality.

"I'm with Dean," Chloe said, a hint of something else behind her voice and eyes. "Let's head for that one."

Looking at her sideways, Dean nodded and took off towards the structure, which looked as worn down and dilapidated as the first cabin. But it was still better than freezing to death out in the middle of nowhere. He briefly thought about the Impala and hoped she'd be safe overnight in the lot where they'd parked.

By the time they reached the cabin, night was rapidly falling upon them, and the wind had turned even colder, a heavy snow beginning to fall. She didn't hesitate before heading up the stairs of the porch, her foot going right through the third step as she fell through it with a startled cry.

Behind her, Sam was able to grab a hold of Chloe before she keeled headlong down the steps and into the snow, though by the sound of her cries, she'd hurt herself. "Chloe, you okay?" he asked with great concern.

Turning at her cry of pain, Dean immediately bent down and said, "Her foot fell through the step." Very carefully, he tore the rotted boards up from around her foot and eased it out. 

"Sammy, we have to get her inside. Now." He saw blood oozing from her leg.

"I'm all right. It's just some scrapes," she said grimly, wincing as she tried to stand.

Scooping her up, Sam replied, "Why stand when you can be carried inside?"

Dean pulled the door open and let them inside, not looking to meet her eyes when she passed by him. He then entered and shut the door behind them. "This place is dirty, but it'll have to do," he said, looking around the two-room cabin. Fortunately, there was a fireplace so they could try to keep warm.

Putting Chloe down on the couch, Sam said, "I'll go get some firewood if you wanna clean up her wound." He threw Dean a knowing look and left the cabin.

Chloe shifted slightly, putting her bag on the floor beside the sofa and pulling out a first aid kit she'd packed. She'd hoped to not have to open it, but such was her luck lately apparently.

Grabbing a small bucket from the small kitchen, Dean went outside long enough to get a couple handfuls of snow and go back inside. He grabbed a flashlight out of his pack that he'd put down by the door and turned it on. "This is gonna be cold, but it's the best I can do," he whispered, kneeling down in front of her and taking off her shoe and sock.

"It's really not a big deal. I'm all right." The worry in his voice made her feel something she never wanted to feel again and she shifted uncomfortably.

"No you're not," he said under his breath, not referring to the scrapes he found along her ankle. He found some cloth from her first aid kit and soaked it in the ice so he could clean her leg. When she shivered as the icy cloth touched her skin, he winced. "Sorry. Where the hell is Sam with the firewood?"

"I don't know." She glanced toward the door worriedly, wincing a little as he cleaned the wounds on her ankle. She shivered, winding her arms around herself.

Dean tried to warm up the cloth with his hand, though he ended up swearing under his breath at how much the cold hurt against his bare skin. But he hoped that at least the cloth was warmer for her. "He'll be back soon," he insisted. "Though if I hear a gun go off, I'll have to go after him." He got out a bandage and started wrapping her ankle.

She watched him silently, a chill of a different kind sweeping over her as his fingers gently brushed her skin.

Dean sensed rather than saw the change in her demeanor and frowned hard. Not looking up at her, he grumbled, "Sam's going to be okay. And I have to touch you to help you." The wrapping done, he pulled her pant leg back down and put her sock back on to warm her foot again. He then backed away from her and started searching for matches to start the fire when Sam returned.

Chloe swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the floor as she cursed herself for being so stupid. She watched as the guys arranged the wood Sam had found and built a warm fire. Shifting on the sofa a little, she moved over to make room for them to sit down if they wanted.

Dean had his back to her, practically sticking his cold, numb hand into the fire to warm it up. He didn't understand what was going on with her, but he was in no mood to do any kind of sharing. He glanced over at Sam. "You brought food with you, I hope?"

Sam shot him a look. "Fortunately for you, yeah, I did." He snuck a look over at Chloe. "How's she doing?" He'd noticed a pained, blank look on her face and frowned.

"Hell if I know," he whispered back.

"Chloe, you hungry?" Sam asked softly.

Chloe glanced up at the sound of her name and met Sam's eyes, but only for a second. "No, I'm good. But thanks."

"Sure," he replied in a concerned voice, though he didn't think she heard him. Distant, lost in thought, he mused to himself. He was glad for his laptop in his bag, because he fully intended to start scoping out these symptoms she seemed to consistently display. That, and there was nothing else to do.

Dean, on the other hand, breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he felt the feeling in his hand come back. "Man, I was worried I'd have frostbite or something," he muttered.

"Here." Chloe pulled out a small blanket she'd stuffed in her bag just in case, motioning toward the sofa.

Dean sat down next to her, though he made no movement towards her. Pointing at the blanket, he said, "No, you need it more than I do. I'm fine."

Sam snorted at his brother's comment but said nothing. He retreated to the table in the small kitchen and grabbed his laptop, wanting to research more on this Abominable Snowman, if, in fact it was still a threat. And what Chloe might be suffering from, if anything.

Sighing softly as her instincts took over, she unfolded the blanket and covered him with it silently, meeting his eyes for a few brief seconds before letting her gaze drop to the floor once more.

"Thank you," Dean said, a little confused by her small gesture. He didn't take the blanket off of him, however, though he did stare at her for several moments before looking away.

She was quiet for a moment. "It was my cousin," she said softly.

He looked over at her, a blank look on his face. "What, the blanket?" he asked.

She snorted and smacked him lightly on the arm without thinking about it. "Funny. No... on the phone earlier."

He smiled slightly, mockingly rubbing his arm as if in pain. "Oh," he said, wondering how she could live switching gears as often as she did. She seemed to react to his playfulness and stupidity, though she seemed to resist it. "Why didn't you answer?"

Chloe turned her head to stare into the fire. "We had a pretty big fight before I left Smallville."

He looked away from her and into the fire himself. "Wanna tell me about it?" he asked absently.

She was quiet for a moment. "She decided she wanted to take over my life," she said bitterly.

"Was it because of this Daily Planet job thing?" he asked quietly, remembering the conversation they'd had about why she left her friends and family behind. His face became grim at the thought.

"Her sudden love of journalism pretty much came outta left field. Everything else became less important than her getting ahead." Of me, she added silently, hurt because she didn't understand why things had happened the way they did.

Dean nodded sadly, grateful that Sam was his brother. Though they often competed against each other through pranks, they never actually sought to outdo each other. Not in any kind of serious way. He could only imagine how much that must hurt. "She sounds pretty... selfish," he said, hesitating a little. He wanted to hold her hand in comfort but refused to get closer to her. The memory of her demeanor over his tending to her ankle was still too fresh in memory.

Tears prickled at her eyes. "We used to be so close. Like sisters. We did everything together, shared everything." Swallowing hard, she blinked back the tears, her voice thick with sadness.

Involuntarily, Dean reached out and touched her hand. He couldn't help it. "Sounds like me and Sam," he whispered, glancing in his brother's direction. "I'm sorry. That kind of rejection hurts. Like hell."

Wordlessly, she rested her head on his shoulder, shutting her eyes. Her heart hurt and even if it was only for a few moments, she was going to take the comfort he was offering.

Snaking an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her to him and held her there lightly. He didn't know what else to say; he just somehow understood she was battling some major demons, much bigger than her. Staring into the fire, he kind of hoped she wouldn't retreat back into herself and move away from him.

Relaxing a little in his embrace, her breathing began to even out as she slowly drifted toward sleep.

Without thinking, Dean dropped his head down and kissed the top of her head softly. He used his free arm to wrap part of the blanket around her, as he felt her begin to nod off and wanted to keep her warm. Hopefully, with any luck, she would sleep through the night. He would just stay awake, keep the fire going, and watch over her.

&&&&&

Chloe woke sometime in the dead of night, shivering involuntarily. Slowly opening her eyes, she realized she'd fallen asleep curled up against Dean, who was also sleeping. Why was she so cold? Glancing toward the fire, she realized it was dying and sighed softly as she looked at Sam, asleep on the floor. She wondered how on earth he could possibly be comfortable. Biting her lower lip, she slowly extricated herself from Dean's arms, moving slowly so as not to disturb him. Sliding her shoes back on she tied the laces and slid her jacket on, as well. Then she moved quietly toward the door to get some more wood for the fire. She stepped outside, hesitating a moment as she looked at the rickety stairs. Moving to the far edge that didn't look quite as damaged, she descended them slowly, limping a little. She drew in a breath of the cold night air, looking up to see the stars shining brilliantly above. It was beautiful. 

The crunch of ice and snow to her left made her freeze in her tracks and she slowly turned to see a very large, very hairy white figure. Her eyes widening, she remained still, afraid to move or make any noise. It just stood there, staring at her.

Something woke up Dean. He didn't know what it was, exactly, but his eyes popped open wide. He looked into the darkness of the room, watching the embers dying... and felt nothing beside him. Looking around, he noticed Chloe was gone. Grimacing at the thought of her wandering around somewhere in the dead of night, he leapt up, nearly tripping over Sam. Fortunately, though, Sam was deep in sleep and wasn't fazed by being pushed out of the way by Dean's feet.

He grabbed his gun from his bag and cocked it, noticing the door to the cabin was slightly ajar. Cursing under his breath, he crept out the front door, gun aimed in front of him. He found Chloe standing in the front of the cabin, looking at something just out of his eyesight. "Chloe?" he asked softly, seeing suddenly a large white thing staring at her. He pointed the gun at the creature. "Chloe, don't move," he growled.

"Don't!" She quickly held a hand up, turning to look at him and then back at the furry figure. "Don't shoot. I don't think he's... bad."

"Why, because he hasn't made a move to eat you yet?" he retorted, his gun still aimed at the creature's head. Funny, though, he thought. It just seemed to be standing there, looking at Chloe with more curious eyes than evil ones.

"Just a feeling," she whispered, gazing at the creature intently. Truthfully it wasn't scary looking at all. It almost looked...cuddly. Like a big teddy bear.

Dean slowly lowered his gun and looked at the creature, which had slowly turned its gaze onto him. This thing wasn't evil, he thought, watching it watch him. "It's looking at me, Chloe," he whispered, confused and even a little awed.

"I know," she whispered back, tears stinging her eyes for reasons she didn't understand.

"So what do I do?" he asked, uncertain for the first time in years on what to do.

"No idea," Chloe admitted, still remaining motionless. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest as she continued to gaze at it.

Dean watched as the creature turned its eyes back on Chloe, then on him... and then slowly moved away from them, disappearing into the depths of the dark night and the woods. Only after it left did Dean dare go near her. "You okay?" he asked softly.

"That was incredible," she whispered, turning to look at him.

The look on her face, radiant and open, nearly did him in. As it was, he felt his heart hammering in his chest, though he wanted it to be from the adrenaline. "It was," he agreed, a faint peaceful smile on his lips.

Chloe smiled back at him, her eyes shining in the moonlight. She turned to look toward where the creature had disappeared.

"You hoping it'll come back?" he asked, a little amused at her delight.

"Maybe," she admitted. Truth was she was half-tempted to follow it.

He put a hand on her arm. "Let's get some more wood and get back into the cabin," he whispered. "You must be freezing." He wondered at her hope of the creature returning. Though it had been a beautiful moment, it had left, as they always seemed to do.

"Okay," she murmured, slowly moving farther into the forest to gather some more wood for the fireplace.

He helped her gather the firewood, though he didn't like how curious Chloe was about her need to suddenly follow that creature into the woods. That thing might be safe, but who knew what else lurked in the darkness? "What's going on with you?" he asked in a concerned voice.

"What do you mean?" She glanced at him as she picked up a small branch from the ground.

"Why do I get the impression you'd totally follow that thing into the woods if I wasn't you here?" He reached over and picked up a couple larger pieces of wood.

A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Because I've always been good at getting myself into trouble."

He smirked in response. "Believe me, I'm better at it than you are." He pulled the wood against him. "You got enough wood?"

"I wouldn't say that." She looked down at the branches and sticks in her arms. "I do...do you?"

"Yeah." He looked at her, indicating for her to lead the way back to the cabin and its relative warmth.

Nodding a little, she slowly led the way, limping a bit as she traipsed up the stairs. "He so cannot be comfortable there."

"Who, Sammy?" Dean asked, thinking about his brother curled up into a ball in front of the fire. He smiled as they went back inside. "He's actually more comfortable there than on the couch."

"But the floor's cold," she said worriedly, handing him the wood in her arms as they made their way back into the cabin. She moved over to the sofa and picked up the blanket that had been covering the two of them, using it to cover Sam up now.

A smile tugged at Dean's lips, watching Chloe care for Sam, almost like a mother would. It reminded him that she felt over-protective of his brother. "It's probably why he's by the fire," he said, crouching between his sleeping brother and the fire. "He'll be warmer with the blanket, though." He stoked the ashes and put logs on the fire, trying to get it going again.

She watched Dean get the fire going once more. "You know there's a couple bedrooms toward the back. They're probably more comfortable than the couch."

He didn't dare look at her, especially since the tone in her voice was so matter-of-fact. "You can sleep in one of the bedrooms," he said. "I'll stay out here." He looked behind him to Sam, who still slept curled up in a ball. "Probably need to get him into the other room, too."

"How do you propose we do that?" She asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Turning around, Dean grabbed Sam's shoulder and shook him. Hard. "Sammy, wake up!" he shouted.

Deep in sleep, Sam awoke, startled, to find Dean shaking the life outta him. "What?" he asked in an irritated, sleepy voice.

"Dude, there's bedrooms in the back. Go sleep in one of them."

Chloe gave Dean a look. "You can't possibly be comfortable on the floor, Sam."

"Well, it was warm in here," Sam replied, sitting up and looking around him. "Besides, I wanted to be around just in case Dean fell asleep."

Snorting at his brother's comment, Dean replied, "Dude, go. Now. I’m sleeping out here on the couch."

"Fine." Grabbing the blanket he found around him, he looked up at Chloe.

She smiled faintly. "You looked cold."

"Thanks," he replied with a grateful smile. "I was a little." He stood up, giving the blanket back to her. "Here, you need it more than I do."

Nodding a little, she took it from him, wrapping it around her shoulders and glancing at Dean, wondering if he was going to tell Sam what they'd seen.

"By the way, Sam, we... uh, we saw the Abominable Snowman." He watched as Sam stopped his retreat into the back rooms and turned around, shocked. 

"What?" he asked quietly. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I accidentally tried, but you sleep too deeply," Dean replied with a smirk.

"And he's not evil," she told him quickly.

"And no, he's not evil," Dean replied after her in a low voice, glancing at her.

Chloe was a little startled that she and Dean had spoken at nearly the same time, the same words. Feeling tired, she slowly moved to the sofa and sat down, yawning.

Sam nodded, a little impressed that Dean hadn't killed it. "Good to know," he said. "So we can leave this place in the morning?"

Dean's head shot up. "Yeah, that was the plan, to get outta these woods. If that was what you meant. Let's talk about this in the morning." Sam looked like he could fall asleep in a standing position.

Nodding sleepily, Sam agreed. With a yawn, he turned and walked into the bedroom on the left.

"You should get some sleep," he whispered to Chloe, turning to look at the fire and regretting the loss of her presence against his shoulder.

"Planning on it." She yawned again, her eyes closing.

He knew she was falling asleep and probably could have stayed out on the couch. He wasn't tired, however, so taking the bed for himself would have proven useless. He, therefore, stepped in front of her and picked her up, putting her head against his shoulder. He carried her down the hall to the bedroom on the right, her blanket in tow.

Chloe sighed softly, almost asleep before he laid her gently on the bed.

Dean wrapped her snugly into the bed, pulling the blanket around her to keep her warm. "You going to be okay in here?" he asked, a little uncertain as he brushed the stray hair out of her face gently.

"Mmm... stay with me," she murmured sleepily, her eyes still shut.

He blinked, not sure he'd heard her correctly. Sitting on the mattress, he looked at her. Her eyes were closed: she might have been dreaming, for all her knew. Yet he lay down beside her, pulling her into him to keep her warm.

Chloe curled up against him as she slept, resting one hand lightly against his chest, her breathing steady and even.

Dean's jaw tensed at the touch of her hand on him. The last couple of days had been weird, and Chloe's "on again, off again" behavior confused the hell outta him, but she seemed to need him then, so he stayed with her while she slept, though sleep never found him again the rest of the night.

&&&&&

_Chloe watched Clark stride across the small dorm room toward her, a feral smile on his face. She looked at him in confusion. "What's gotten into you? You're not acting like yourself, Clark." He'd been acting strangely for the last few hours and each hour that went by seemed to get weirder and she couldn't figure it out._

_Clark smirked like a hunter who had caught his prey. The confusion on her face was almost a turn-on in itself, and he hadn't even touched her yet. "Nothing's wrong with me, Chloe. I just... want to be near you," he replied casually, though his stalked slowly towards her._

_Her eyebrows furrowed. "Uh, okay..." She looked at him with uncertainty. "Are you sure you're all right?"_

_"Never been better, baby, now that I have you all alone." He'd backed her into a corner at this point and put his arms on either side of her body, so she wouldn't escape. His eyes traveled lazily down her body: he wanted her badly suddenly and the idea of foreplay wasn't so much fun anymore._

_"You're very funny," she said wryly, reaching out and trying to push him away from her a little. She stared at him when he reached up and snatched her wrist with one large hand. "Clark, what are you doing?"_

_"Taking what's always been mine," he replied, grabbing both of her wrists with his hand and putting them over her head. He crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her hotly, demanding entrance to her body. He pressed himself to her, not taking no for an answer... because she wanted him as much as he did her._

_She was too stunned by his actions to try and protest, a mixture of fear and desire and hope humming through her as she slowly returned the kiss, groaning softly, involuntarily._

_Clark felt her arousal and surrender, which only heightened his need to her as quickly as possible. Their mouths still joined, Clark picked her up and practically flew across the room to her bed, putting her down and covering his body with hers. His hands immediately tackled her shirt and pants, ripping them from her body in his impatience. "You wear too much," he muttered against her lips._

_For a moment her fear overtook her. "Clark, we shouldn't--"_

_"You also talk too much," he muttered, his lips trailing down her skin. He started fumbling with his own clothing as he marked a trail of fire down her body._

_It was wrong. Even though she'd broken up with Jimmy just the day before, it still felt wrong. But as he kissed her, she felt the familiar swell of love and need for Clark within her growing once more and she put all thoughts of wrong and right out of her mind. Even though some part of her mind was screaming that he wasn't himself, her mind was clouded by the thought that he actually wanted her._

_Clark was into the moment, totally focused on his goal: making love to Chloe. He didn't care about anything else in the world at that moment, and as he entered her, he felt the rush of pleasure she offered him. Her moans excited him and urged him to start moving inside her. "God, you feel so tight," he whispered to her, his eyes blazing red from the arousal he felt._

_She whimpered a little, a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Clark, slow down," she whispered back, sliding her hands down his back._

_"Do you know what you do to me?" he asked in response to her request. Moving into her rhythmically, he continued, "I've always wanted to do this with you. I just couldn't admit it. Ever."_

_The breath caught in her throat. "I've always loved you, Clark," she whispered softly._

_"I love you too, baby," he whispered as he pounded into her body, his breath coming in short gasps as he reached his peak. He felt her close too and wanted them to come together._

_A wave of joy washed over her and she closed her eyes, winding her arms around his neck as she lifted her hips to meet his, moaning softly._

_"That's it," he whispered, feeling her climax with his, feeling their release together, through his body and mind. Once satiated, he pulled himself out of her and rolled off her to lie next to her._

_A little dazed from what had just happened, she bit her lower lip, covering herself with the blanket and looking at him._

_"Damn," he said after a minute, ignoring her movements to cover herself. "That was a wild ride." He got himself up off the bed and walked around, naked as the say his parents found him in that cornfield. He slowly picked up his clothing._

_"Are you leaving?" she asked in confusion, slowly sitting up, clutching the blanket to her chest and feeling more than a little confused._

_"Yeah, I have... other places to be." He shrugged on his clothing, his back to her, already thinking about the next place he was headed off to. Stealing that motorcycle from Lex's mansion had been the best thing in the world. "You're the best, Chloe," he said with a triumphant smirk, leaning down and kissing her hard. Before she could answer, he was out the door in a flash. Literally._

Chloe whimpered softly in her sleep. "Clark," she whispered almost inaudibly, a pained expression on her face.

Hearing that man's name on Chloe's lips pissed Dean off. He'd lain awake, watching her sleep and listening to her call out Clark Kent's name. With each utterance, he grew more annoyed yet more concerned for her. Because it was the look on her face that troubled him the most. "Chloe," he whispered, nudging her gently.

She startled awake, confused by what had been the cause of her sudden consciousness. The room was too dark and her vision too blurry to see clearly. "Clark?" she asked uncertainly.

"Dean," he grunted, hating the sound of her anguish in speaking Clark's name. He wanted to throw his fist into the wall, he was so frustrated.

The cobwebs began to clear slowly as his name sunk in and she winced, feeling horrible. "I'm sorry, I was... I was dreaming." She slowly sat up, raking a hand through her hair.

"Didn't sound like a dream to me," he replied, propping himself up on the bed and staring at her back. "Why were you dreaming about... him?"

Chloe shut her eyes against the memory, shaking her head slightly. "My subconscious trying to fix things, I guess," she said dully.

"Which begs the question, what'd he break, exactly?" The words slipped out of Dean's mouth before he was aware he had uttered them. But he had to know. Watching her shake and moan from her dream was torture, especially since he honestly thought this guy had done something to her that she might never recover from.

Me, she thought instantly, her shoulders slumping a little. "He didn't break anything. I did that all by myself." How could she have thought for one single moment that Clark Kent was actually in love with someone besides Lana Lang? How could she have let herself believe he'd actually wanted her?

"I doubt that," he whispered, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder. With each passing moment, his anger towards this guy grew more and more. "Just for the record, I hate this guy." More than she'd ever know.

A tear trickled down his cheek. "He's not a bad guy... most of the time."

"It doesn't matter," he replied, squeezing her shoulder a little. "The fact that he obviously was once is enough for me to hate his freakin' guts forever." Just then, a thought popped into his head, one that nearly sent him flying off the bed to pummel the wall on the other side. Gritting his teeth, he asked, "What'd he do to you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," Chloe whispered, shutting her eyes against the memories, the guilt. The sadness.

He felt the door slam in his face again, and this time, he knew it was because of Clark and whatever he'd done to her. And as much as he wanted to comfort her, Dean knew that being around her right now was a really bad idea. He got off the bed and ran a hand through his hair. "Fine," he muttered, "I'll be in the other room if you need me." Like that would ever happen, he thought to himself. That bastard had taken advantage of her, he knew it. He wanted her to trust him enough to utter it to him, but clearly she didn't trust men in general. He didn't blame her for that: it was the guy who did it to her he wished a painful death.

&&&&&

"Chloe, you're hurt. Just shut up and let me carry you," Dean insisted, grabbing her out of the Impala at the hotel. He'd carried her back from the old cabin despite her protests, and even though he was tired from that long trek, he was not going to let her walk on that foot until it was healed.

"It's not like I broke it," she protested. "It's just some scrapes and cuts, Dean."

Sam got out of the car from the driver's side and popped the trunk. He hid a smile as he listened to his brother argue his point.

"You weren't walking so well on it last night, you know," he protested, picking her up. "You need to stay off it for a couple days. It's not like you're a burden."

Sighing softly, she gave up and reluctantly let him carry her into the hotel lobby.

Smirking, he used a free hand to open the front door and walked quickly through the lobby towards their room. He knew she was a little irritated with him because he was trying to prove that not all men are assholes. He had to wait for Sam to unlock the door, however. Once inside, he gently put her on the couch and started a fire for her.

"Gee, Dean, I'm seeing a side of you that doesn't come out much," Sam remarked idly, putting their stuff in respective rooms.

"Shut your cakehole, dude," Dean growled under his breath.

Sighing softly, Chloe laid back on the couch, gazing into the fire sightlessly, her thoughts drifting to Clark once more, involuntarily. She was so deep in thought, in fact, she didn't even realize it when Sam sat down beside her.

"You look like you've been through hell and back," he said quietly, letting Dean get the fire going. He'd been watching her all day, noticing how her eyes went blank and she ignored much of what had been said. Maybe it was because he and Dean argued too much, but he thought there was something else.

She flinched a little, startled by his presence. Glancing at him sideways, she shook her head a little. "I'm all right. Are we heading out today?"

"Probably not," Sam replied and motioned to her foot. "We should probably stay here and let you recover from that." And everything else that had been weighing on her, he thought.

That was just fine with her. The hotel was nice, the mountains were beautiful and she needed a short break from life in general. Nodding slightly, she shut her eyes, resting her foot on a pillow.

Dean stood up and stretched. He was tired from lack of sleep and then the exertion of fighting with Chloe over carrying her. "Think I'm going to get some shuteye," he remarked to no one in particular. Without waiting for a response, he went to his room and shut the door.

"I think I pissed him off," she whispered, her eyes still closed.

Sam glanced at the shut door and shook his head. "Dean's pissed, but not at you," he remarked in a curious tone. "Not sure what's got him worked up, though."

"I don't know." There was sadness in her voice and she suddenly felt like she was going to start crying.

"Hey," he said, turning to look at her. "Chloe, I know there's something wrong. I can go talk to Dean if you want me to, but frankly, I'm more concerned about you." He gazed at her, worry written on his face.

"I'm just so tired," she admitted wearily, not looking at him. "I just... wonder if there's even a point sometimes."

"A point?" he asked softly. "To what... to living?" God, he was so not the right person to talk about what with, he thought.

"Just anything," she whispered.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, there has to be a point, right? I mean... why else are we here, then?" He shook his head, looking down. "I'm sorry I don't have the answer to that question."

"It was kind of rhetorical," she said, managing a small, sad smile.

"You're tired," he said back to her. "You should sleep." He stood up, feeling a little useless that there was nothing else he could do at the moment.

"Yeah." She slowly turned over on her side. Letting out a breath, she swallowed hard.

He sat there and stared at her back for a moment, debating on whether to carry her into her room, where she'd undoubtedly be more comfortable. He remained still, however, a sudden thought entering his mind. "Chloe, do you... think about what that Pastor Frank did to... you?" he asked hesitantly.

She flinched at the mention of the man's name. "As little as possible," she said dully.

"It's funny, because... I think about what he said... a lot." He stood up and walked to the fire. It was true, the words the preacher had said still resounded in his head, telling him in every way that he was going to hell for living with the only woman he'd ever loved. He suppressed a shudder of horror and wondered... believed that Chloe was lying.

"Maybe you should... you know, talk to someone." She shut her eyes once more, her head starting to hurt.

"I thought I was," he said in a hushed voice, his eyes glued to the light of the fire.

"Someone who can actually help," she whispered.

"Could say the same about you," he replied.

"I'm not the one who's thinking about it a lot," she responded distantly.

There it was again, he thought. That toneless sound in her voice, the way she drifted off at the end of the sentence. It meant something, he believed. Just like he believed she was thinking about things that haunted her life -- which was exacerbated by the preacher and his demonic brainwashing. "Okay," he said, turning back to her. "I'm going to get some shuteye. Wake one of us if you need something." He grabbed his laptop case, pausing to look at her for a response.

"Sure," Chloe murmured, not moving or even opening her eyes. She heard his footsteps start to retreat down the hall. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?" he asked, stopping but not turning to look at her.

"I wish you coulda seen it," she whispered, tears sparkling on her eyelashes.

"Seen what?" he asked, though he knew she'd been speaking about the creature she and Dean saw the previous night.

"The Abominable Snowman."

He smiled faintly and turned around. "What was it like?"

"Incredible," she admitted in a soft whisper. She slowly sat up and turned to look at him. "It was like...realizing...how small we are in the grand scheme of things."

"Seriously?" he asked. "How did it make you feel like that?"

"There's so many things out there that most people don't know about," Chloe whispered. "So much that...they shut themselves off to..."

"I know," he admitted softly. "I tried to shut myself off from those things for awhile, but... it found me anyway."

"It has a way of doing that," she said just as softly, gazing at him.

"Think maybe we're better off because we know?"

"I don't like being in the dark," she admitted with a soft smile.

He chuckled. "You'll never be in the dark around me and Dean. The dark's what we're good at."

Chloe was silent for a moment, gazing at him in the fire lit room. "I don't think this is..." She paused, shaking her head. It wasn't the time.

Sam took a step towards her, a little awkwardly. He wished she could confide in Dean, because he wanted her to do that, so badly Sam could almost taste it. But he merely cocked his head. "Don't think... what is?" 

"I don't think this is going to be a permanent situation," she admitted.

Good thing Dean didn't hear that, he thought with a frown. "You're thinking of taking off soon." He spoke in a low, flat tone that didn't betray the intense worry and protectiveness he suddenly felt towards her. Being out there, alone... knowing what she knew. It wasn't a good idea.

Chloe paused. "I never really intended to stay, it just...Dean asked and...it wasn't like I had anywhere to go and..."

Sam held up a hand to her. "Chloe, look. I don't know what's going on in your head, or why you were on the side of the road, or hell, why Dean even stopped to get you... I just know that... it's been nice having you around. To talk to, to research with. I don't want to see you leave." Looking away from her, he continued to himself, Because if you leave, Dean'll never be the same." 

"You don't?" There was more than a hint of surprise in her voice.

"I don't," he admitted with a smile. "Nice having the female perspective around."

"And you don't feel like I'm... in the way or... getting between the two of you?" she asked uncertainly.

He laughed, a short snicker that spoke of things he knew had already gotten between them. "Believe me, Chloe, you're probably the only thing right now that isn't getting between us."

Her eyebrows furrowed a little and she gazed at him with worry in her eyes. "Sam... Dean... told me about your dad," she whispered. "I'm really sorry."

The smile on his face died, and he looked down, shuffling his feet a little. "Thanks," he whispered. "It's been... tough, but I'm trying to move on, continue the fight."

"I'm a good listener," she said softly, gazing at him intently.

So am I, he thought, though he kept that to himself. "Did he tell you about... how Dad died?"

"No," Chloe admitted, shaking her head a little.

He kept his gaze fixed on the floor. "It was... the same thing that killed our mother. My... girlfriend." Even now, months later, he had a hard time wrapping around the concept. His father had given his soul to the very thing he'd vowed to kill.

She felt all the air leave her lungs. "I'm so sorry." She winced a little as she rose to her feet, her eyes sad. She rested a gentle hand on his arm. She had no idea what this 'thing' was that had taken so many people from the Winchester brothers, but right then the specifics didn't really matter.

He shook his head, not able to look anywhere else but at his feet. The light touch on his arm was a little comforting, though he knew it was all she could offer. "Dad dying was... totally unexpected. Especially since... we thought Dean was gonna die." He looked up at that and into Chloe's eyes.

That hit her harder than it should have. Much harder. Her face paling a little, she shook her head. "What... what do you mean?" she whispered, almost inaudibly.

It was Sam's turn to touch her, though it was for her support. Chloe looked like she was going to pass out. "You sure you want to know?" he asked, his eyes dark with worry.

Chloe nodded slightly, feeling ill as he guided her over to the sofa to sit down once more.

Dean was probably gonna kick his ass for telling her this, but it was too late to go back. "A few months ago... actually, just before Dad died... all three of us were in an accident. Dean... he was already... hurt." Sam grimaced at the memory of watching the Demon, inside his father's skin, tear into and nearly kill his brother.

"Hurt how?" she whispered, her heart thudding against her chest.

He took a deep breath and letting it out before going on. "It was... Dean was being... tortured. By Dad, who was possessed by... it."

Chloe flinched involuntarily. She'd had one too many brushes with possession herself and it was never pretty. "By...the thing that killed your mother and girlfriend," she whispered.

He nodded slowly without saying anything. He had been totally helpless: there was nothing worse than being powerless watching your brother die at the hands of your father, he thought. A frown creased his brow.

She kept a light hand on his arm. "So after... that... the three of you were in an accident."

"T-boned by a Mac truck." He looked up at her pale, nearly lifeless face and wanted to cry from the barely concealed emotion he saw there.

Chloe opened her mouth to respond, but couldn't find the words.

"I thought Dad was dead, then," he continued in a flat voice. "Dean was out cold in the back. He nearly died in the hospital... especially since he was a spirit and being... hunted himself." He closed his eyes, feeling all of the emotion coming back.

"Hunted by what?" she whispered, suddenly feeling very much out of league with these two who had been through so much in such a short time.

He stared steadily at her. "By a reaper, Chloe. They claim the souls of the dying."

She shuddered involuntarily, feeling overwhelmed. And if she felt this badly she couldn't imagine how badly they must feel.

He put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "It's okay, Chloe," he whispered sadly. "I... I didn't want to burden you with this. It's just..." He shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

She shut her eyes, leaning against him even though she felt guilty. She was supposed to be comforting him--not the other way around. "It's okay, Sam. Go on," she whispered.

His eyes closed, he continued in a quiet voice. "I was able to contact Dean when he was... and found out about the reaper. Then, suddenly, Dean... came back. And a few hours later... Dad died." The one thing he'd always regret was the last conversation he had with his father: that damn argument.

"Because of the demon.... was it... was it still possessing him?" she asked with uncertainty.

Sam looked at Chloe earnestly. "No, if left him before the accident..." His eyes strayed to the fire, where he recalled his father's comment about how he should have shot him in the heart instead of the leg. So the Demon would have died with Dad.

"I don't understand... what..." Her voice trailed off as the pieces began to come together in her mind. If possible, her face grew even paler than it had been.

"Chloe?" he asked, alarmed at the deathly pallor on her face. Her clammy skin made him wonder if she was close to a panic attack.

"Your dad... somehow... traded places with Dean?" she whispered.

Sam blinked in shock. Traded places? "What?" he whispered inaudibly. Did Dad really die... to save Dean? He let her go and put his head in his hands, breathing in deeply to maintain his composure. "Of course," he finally said. "Makes sense all of a sudden."

She rested a hand on his back, feeling horrible. "I'm probably wrong," she whispered, hating herself for having blurted her thoughts out like that.

He heaved a heavy sigh. "Dean thinks the same thing... I think," he said, a little brokenly. It struck him as ironic that he was supposed to be pulling confessions out of her. How had they gotten to this point? "Look, it's done, and there's nothing else to be said," he said, standing up.

Chloe was startled by the abrupt change in his mood. "We both know that's not true," she said quietly, looking up at him with sad eyes.

He laughed a little bitterly. "Does it matter? Dad's dead, Dean's not dealing, and I'm not handling things too well lately." He put two fingers to his nose and pinched it. "Besides, I was trying to get you to open up to me... not the other way around."

"You don't have to worry about me, Sam. I'm all right. And you don't have to handle this by yourself."

"Thanks, I appreciate it, but Chloe..." He turned and threw her a knowing look. "You and I both know you're not okay. Not by a long shot. It's all over your face, in your eyes, in your demeanor."

She diverted her eyes and was silent for a moment. "Okay, I'm not. But I will be."

Finally. A confession, of sorts. "Yes, you will... but it's better to stay with us until you are," he replied with a sad smile. "We might be messed up with our own stuff, but at least you'll be in good company."

"So we can all be one big messed up family?" A faint smile tugged at her lips.

Sam shrugged. "Sure, why not? I'm an annoying younger brother, apparently." He glanced at Dean's door and shook his head.

"I don't think you're annoying."

A cheesy grin broke out on Sam's face, despite the seriousness of the conversation they'd just had. "Glad to hear it. Dean can be the annoying older brother, though... you're definitely not his sister."

Her expression clouded at that remark. She lowered her gaze to the floor. "I'm not sure what I am." 

"Knowing my brother, I'd say... he's taken an interest in you." His words were in a hushed voice, because he knew Dean would probably kill him, many times over, for what he was saying to her.

"That's not... exactly news," she admitted softly, resting her head in her hands.

Sam looked surprised. "He told you, huh?" he asked. Her reaction was one of someone who almost didn't want any attention paid to her. Least of all by the likes of his brother. Almost.

"Not exactly." She was silent for a moment. "He... kissed me."

Hardly surprised, Sam nodded. "Yeah, Dean tends to... go after what he wants." He looked at the near despair on her face and truly wondered if she was even interested in Dean. "How do you feel about that?"

"Very confused," she admitted. "I don't exactly have a good history as far as guys are concerned."

"Dean's a decent guy, though... he tries hard not to show it sometimes." As much as Sam loved his brother, he'd never understand why his brother was such a player. That is, until he'd met this woman, who was giving him a run for his money.

"It's... not about that," Chloe said quietly, not looking at him.

"I know, Chloe," he insisted. "Somewhere along the way a guy's trampled on you, huh?"

She paused. "More like, I was stupid enough to trust something I shouldn't have."

He looked at her curiously but didn't press the issue. "Who hasn't at some point?" he asked honestly. "I have... and God knows Dean has, too."

Chloe's gaze suddenly became vacant and she didn't respond.

Sam immediately noticed the change in her demeanor, her eyes glazing over. He waved a hand in front of her face, but there was no response. Nothing. "Chloe?" he said, taking her arms in his hands.

She didn't move, her eyes didn't even shift to look at him when he touched her.

"Holy hell," he whispered, picking her up and putting her on the couch. Though she was sitting up, she did and said nothing. It was like she was in a trance. That's when it hit Sam: the brainwashing. She was still suffering the effects of what that preacher had done to her before he and Dean had gotten there. What could have triggered this, though? he asked himself as he started pacing. And should he awaken Dean to let him know?

As he paced, Chloe remained still and silent, her expression as vacant as that of the dead. It was more than a little eerie.

Sam leaned over and shook Chloe, trying to get her to snap out of whatever she was in. Nothing. She wouldn't even blink. Cursing under his breath, Sam strode to Dean's door and pounded on it. Loudly.

The insistent beating on the door shook Dean out of a sound sleep? "What?!" he shouted in irritation, needing at least three more hour's sleep.

"It's Chloe. Get out here!"

"What?!" he repeated, jumping out of bed so fast he nearly tripped on his own feet. Yanking the door open, he found a frantic-looking Sam. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

"She's in some kind of trance. I can't snap her out of it!"

Shoving Sam out of the way, Dean strode quickly into the main room and saw Chloe sitting ramrod straight on the couch. He crouched in front of her and put his hands on her knees. "Chloe?" he asked harshly, his voice still groggy with sleep. Her eyes stared unseeing over his head. It was like... she was dead. Her pale face showed no emotion whatsoever. "What the hell'd you do?" he growled at Sam. 

"I don't know! We were just talking and all of a sudden she was just like that!" His voice was strained, and he felt like he was about to start crying as he racked his brain trying to recall what he'd said.

"Dude, what was the last thing you said to her?" he demanded, his head snapping around to stare at Sam. He stood up in anger, his fists already clenched, ready to bow back at his brother.

"We were talking about trusting the wrong people and..." It hit him full force. "Shit. I said... God." He whispered so only Dean would hear him.

He got closer to Sam. "What in... Sam, you're not making any sense," Dean said, seeing red by this time. "You trying to tell me that... word... put her into this?"

"No it makes sense... a trigger word. Pastor Frank must have somehow used that to brainwash her."

"Holy crap," he said, closing his eyes to keep from beating Sam up for something that freaky, insane preacher did. "Dude, you got any idea how to get her out of... this?" He turned to look at her, the worry plastered all over his face.

"I don't know, man... last time she was in a trance like this you almost getting stabbed snapped her out of it, but..." His voice trailed off. "I don't know. Cold water maybe?"

"Hit me, Sammy." Dean's sudden comment was harsh but determined.

"What?" Sam said dubiously.

"Didn't you say the last time she snapped out of it was when I nearly got stabbed?" he demanded. "Hit me, dummy. Maybe it'll work again." He crouched down a little, preparing for the ass-kicking Sam might try to give him.

"Yeah and what if it doesn't and I just break your nose or something?" he protested.

He shrugged. "Not like I don't deserve it for... something." When Sam continued to look at him dubiously, he yelled, "Sammy hits like a freaking girl!!"

"Dude. There's gotta be another way to--"

Sick of Sam's protests and inability to listen, Dean hauled off and hit Sam in the face, forcing his brother to keel back in surprise.

Simply out of instinct and from his frayed nerves, Sam punched him hard in the jaw, knocking his older brother backwards. "Jackass." 

"What the hell is going on?" Chloe murmured, looking confused as she stirred on the sofa.

Rubbing his face, Dean grumbled, "Dude! Sam, you sucker punched me!" But he was smiling, because it seemed like Chloe had snapped out of whatever trance she was in. He looked over at Sam, a triumphant look in his eyes.

"Don't say it," Sam replied in a low voice, rubbing his own face in pain.

"Why are you guys fighting now?" she asked wearily.

"Apparently that's the only thing that'll snap you out of these trances," Dean replied with a knowing smirk. "It's all about me getting hurt."

Sam just rolled his eyes and looked at Chloe. "Hey, you okay?" he asked.

"Trances?" She looked at him with complete confusion on her face. "What are you talking about?"

The smile on Dean's face fell. "You don't remember being out for the last several minutes?"

Chloe stared at him blankly.

"Looks like a no to me," Sam replied with a frown. "Chloe, what was the last thing we were talking about?" He threw a hesitant look in Dean's direction.

She was quiet for a moment, thinking. "About..." She glanced at Dean, then back at Sam. "Trusting people."

Dean shot Sam a confused look but said nothing. 

"I think... we think... you're still under the effects of the brainwashing," Sam said quietly.

She looked at him in confusion, and rubbed her temples. "I don't know, but I need some aspirin," she whispered.

"I'll get it," Sam whispered, moving into the kitchen for the bottle and a glass of water for her.

Crouching down in front of Chloe, Dean looked up at her again, this time his eyes showing the depth of his worry over her trance-like state. He didn't know what to say to her, so he gently brushed her hair out of her face.

She blinked a couple of times, feeling dazed and more than a little frightened as she gazed at him. "I'm scared, Dean," she admitted in a soft whisper.

So am I, Dean thought as he touched her cheek with his hand and holding it there. "I know," he whispered. "We'll figure this out, okay?"

Swallowing hard, she nodded slightly, not pulling away from his touch though her body was trembling.

He wanted to kiss her suddenly. That kind of soft, comforting kiss designed to relax and reaffirm how he felt about her. But he felt her trembling body and refrained. The last thing he wanted to do was freak her out more... especially since he wasn't sure anymore that she honestly liked him in any romantic sense. He pulled his hand away but remained in a crouching position.

Sam returned with water and aspirin. He handed them to Chloe.

"Thanks," she whispered, taking them and swallowing the pills down quickly, holding onto the glass tightly. "How long was I..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the question.

"Only a few minutes," Sam replied. "Just long enough to freak us both out." He looked over at Dean, a question in his eyes.

It was the same thing Dean was asking himself. 'How is it that she snaps out of it when I'm getting my ass beat?' It just seemed very strange. "At least we know what triggers you... and what gets you out of it," he said, looking back at her.

"What... does trigger it?" she asked uncertainly, looking between them uneasily, her face deathly pale.

Sam hesitated several moments before answering her. "You just... went kinda catatonic," he said carefully.

"I mean, what...what caused it?"

This was what had Sam absolutely perplexed, because quite frankly, he didn't know. "I really don't know, Chloe."

Dean looked down at his hands, which had found themselves resting on her knees. "It was that preacher," he whispered to himself.

Chloe shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself protectively and closing her eyes.

"I hate to ask this, but... can you tell me what happened with that guy?" Dean asked in a quiet, concerned voice.

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice strained.

Dean racked his brain, thinking about where she was that night. "Sammy, do you remember what happened when we got in?" he asked, looking up at his brother.

"She was in a chair, with Pastor Frank hovering over her."

"Okay, but the question is, what was he doing?"

Chloe looked up at Sam with something akin to fear in her eyes. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

Sam saw the look in her eyes and said, "Dean, I need to talk to you. In the other room, dude." She clearly couldn't handle knowing what was wrong with her, and he wasn't going to let his brother's pigheaded ways to get to her.

Nodding in agreement, Dean touched her cheek again. "We'll be right back."

Seeming to fall into herself, she leaned back on the sofa, closing her eyes.

Moving into the kitchen area, Dean looked at Sam. "Okay, dude, what do you remember about that night? Cause it's mostly a blur for me."

Sam drew in a breath and let it out slowly, gazing at his brother. "He had his hands on her head...and he was talking to her. I'm just...not sure what he was saying."

"Did she say anything after you said... that word... that might suggest what he had said to her?" The fact that Chloe was still under this guy's spell was nearly too much to handle. His hands clenched in fists of rage, completely willing to return to Topeka to kill that man. For her.

"No. She just...went all zombie," he said grimly, glancing out at her where she sat on the sofa, looking small and frightened.

"What are we gonna do?" he asked, more to himself than to his brother. Because, in all honestly, he didn't have a clue. It wasn't like he'd dealt with this kind of before. At least, not when it was concerning someone he cared about in that non-familial way.

"I don't know." He raked a hand through his hair. "It'd help if we knew more about her past, but..."

"Maybe I could help with that," he replied in a low, quiet voice, his eyes straying back to Chloe, who had wrapped herself so tightly into a ball that he was afraid she'd never come out of herself.

"How?" Sam asked softly, looking at his brother with worried eyes.

He threw his brother a look. "Because she's told me a little something about herself," he snapped.

"What'd she tell you?"

Sighing, he turned to look at her again. "That she ran away from home, basically. Because she'd been betrayed. By her best friend, her cousin, even some dude she was kinda dating." Then there was the whole 'Clark' dream from last night, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Sam about that.

"Damn," he whispered, his eyes sad as he looked at Chloe again.

"Pretty much my reaction at the time." He frowned, feeling the sting of Chloe's nightmare and being called the one person he couldn't stand. And he hadn't even met the guy. "She's just lucky I don't know Clark, because... he'd be dead," he muttered under his breath.

"Clark?" Sam looked at him in confusion. "Is that the guy she was sort of dating?"

Dean laughed bitterly. "No, he's just the guy she's loved all her life." The man standing between them, he thought.

"So that's his name," he murmured.

Dean shot a glance in his direction. "She told you about him?"

"Not a lot... she just sorta indicated he'd hurt her."

If her nightmare had been any indication, he'd hurt her really badly, he thought, nodding absently. "Yeah, kinda got that memo, too." He moved away from Sam and sat next to Chloe on the couch. She was still staring into the fire.

She felt him sit beside her but she remained still, not looking at him.

"You should get some sleep, Chlo," he whispered, gently putting an arm around her.

"I don't wanna sleep," she whispered, not resisting his embrace. She was afraid to close her eyes.

Moving her closer to him, he planted a small kiss on the top of her head. "What do you want to do?" he asked, looking sideways at Sam, who merely stood there, watching her.

"I don't know," she answered, resting her head against his shoulder.

Moving his free arm around her, Dean picked her up and carried her to her room. He threw Sam a look that told him to find out what he could about her symptoms and a possible cure. Until then, he decided they weren't going to go anywhere. He shut the door behind them and gently laid her down on her bed, hoping she'd relax enough to uncurl herself.

Frowning and worried about both of them, Sam grabbed his laptop and started his search. This time, he decided, he'd start with where Chloe came from: Smallville, Kansas.

&&&&&

Sam hated it when he got stuck with dinner duty, but it wasn't like he had a choice when Dean threw him the keys with that look that said, Dude, food. Now. Didn't help much that none of them had really eaten in the last day, since they'd gotten back from their trek into the woods. And since Dean had spent every waking moment with Chloe, as he probably should have been doing, Sam hadn't been able to tell him about what he'd found on Chloe.

With two large bags of food, he pushed the lobby doors open, letting them shut behind him with a soft bang. He passed by one of the hotel workers, a pretty brunette who smiled and said, "Merry Christmas to you."

A little startled, he looked at her. "Uh, Merry Christmas back." Still a little dazed, he walked to their room and opened the door. "Dean, food's here."

"About time," Dean called, walking out of Chloe's room, looking more than exhausted, and closing the door.

"Dean, do you know what today is?" he asked, his eyebrows still furrowed, dazed expression remaining on his face.

"Aside from hoping that Chloe's gonna tell me everything I need to know about her?" he asked wearily. "Don't have a clue, dude."

"It's Christmas Eve." Sam set the bags on the table, looking at him.

"What?" he asked in an almost annoyed tone. "It can't be, dude. We're not even in December... are we?" He couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at a calendar, to be truthful.

"The girl in the hall just told me Merry Christmas," Sam responded.

Great. Christmas. He hated that time of year, he thought with a frown. Looking down the hall towards Chloe's door, however, made him wonder... did she like Christmas and all the... things that went with it? "Sammy, you think we outta... do something for Chloe? Maybe, to help put that smile back on her face?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking deep in thought. "Yeah. Yeah, we should." He nodded a little. "I'm sure we can...find a tree or something to put up at least."

"Hell, we could steal a tree out of the woods if we need to," he replied with a chuckle. "Would they even have trees for sale? I don't even remember when you get for Christmas."

"I don't know," Sam admitted. It had been too long since the last time he'd actually celebrated Christmas. "Dean, there's something you should know about Chloe."

Rummaging through the bags of food, he didn't look up at his brother. "What's up?" he asked, wondering what she'd want to eat for supper. She had barely eaten anything, and he knew she'd have to keep her strength up.

"Dude, I did an Internet search on Smallville, Kansas."

"Yeah? She's from there, right?"

"Dean, her name came up over four hundred times."

Dean dropped the French fries he was holding, not noticing they'd spilled all over the place. "Four hundred times?" he nearly shouted. "How could...? Oh wait, she was a reporter, so that shouldn't surprise me."

"But it wasn't just her articles that came up. I mean, they were all there, but..." Sam looked at him. "Some of the articles are about her, dude."

Missing reports, no doubt, he thought to himself as he picked the fries off the table and put them onto a paper plate. "You happen to read what they were about?" he asked casually, trying hard not to let Sam know just how curious he was about Chloe and her past.

"Some of them. There were a lot." He leaned against the table, lowering his voice.

Dean waited for Sam to go on, but when his brother said nothing, he glared at him. "Dude, what'd they say, dammit?"

"Well for one...a couple years ago everyone in town thought she was dead."

"Dead?" That was something Dean had never thought about. Didn't want to think about, much less go there. "Who... was after her?"

"Apparently Lionel Luthor."

"Who the hell is Lionel Luthor?" Dean demanded in a hard voice.

"Founder of LuthorCorp? One of the biggest businesses in the entire country? Ringing any bells?"

Dean stared at his brother blankly. "Not really. Why, should it?"

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Anyway. Apparently Chloe got him to confess to the murder of his parents," he said in a hushed voice. "He attempted to have her killed so she couldn't testify against him."

The anger that spurted within his veins nearly came out on the table. His fist connected with the surface, shaking everything on it. "Fucking bastard," he grunted, seeing red at the thought of someone deliberately wanting to harm her.

Sam didn't react to his brother's violent outburst. It was becoming more obvious by the moment how his brother felt about the pretty blonde. "She's been in a lot of trouble. She wasn't kidding when she said she'd been around a lot of weirdness."

Looking down, Dean said, "What kind of weirdness we talking about, man?"

"Meteor freaks. Lots of them. She's been targeted a lot. Buried alive, ran over, car wrecks, possessions..."

"And you think whatever this preacher did to her is, what... bringing all this crap back up?" He glanced towards her door, thankful it was still shut.

"I don't know. I'm just saying...if she's really been through as much as it appears she has...it may make her more vulnerable than most."

Dean looked down, his appetite suddenly gone. She had been fragile to begin with, when they'd found her on that Kansas highway. Since her ordeal with Pastor Frank, though... he believed at any given time, Chloe Sullivan might shatter and break. "Dammit," he murmured inside, feeling as helpless as he did when his mother died. 

"We need to find a way to get that trigger out of her mind. Fast." 

"I know," he whispered, bridging his nose with his fingers and grimacing. "Got any bright ideas, Einstein?" 

Sam was silent for a long moment. "Other than getting her to one of those people who does the deprogramming on brainwashing victims? No." He paused. "Unless..." 

Dean looked at his brother, who had a pensive look on his face. "Unless what, dude?" 

"Maybe Missouri can help," he suggested softly. 

Of course. How could he have not thought of her? he asked himself. "Think she could help her?" Dean asked, looking at Chloe's room again. 

"I don't know. Maybe. It's worth a shot." 

"Think we ought to call her, first," Dean said. "Not that she doesn't know everything already." Putting some food on a plate, Dean started heading out of the kitchen. 

"I'll call her," he said quietly. "You just... go take care of Chloe." 

He wanted to roll his eyes but found he lacked the snark to do so. He simply nodded and walked to Chloe's door, gently knocking before opening it. 

"Come in," she murmured, her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around them tightly. 

It seemed she hadn't moved from that position in the last twenty-four hours, which worried him to no end. Stuffing back his feelings, however, he walked in and shut the door behind him. Sitting on the bed, he looked at the lukewarm burger and fries on the plate. "Well, it's not the best Christmas feast, but I guess it's better than nothing." 

"I'm not hungry," Chloe whispered, not looking at him. 

"Sweetheart, you really have to eat something." 

She rubbed her eyes warily, her head aching. "Did you eat?" 

Dean couldn't bite back a smile. "No, not yet. I... wanted to make sure you ate first." He looked into her tired eyes and smiled at her. 

"I can't eat all that," she murmured, her stomach turning at the thought. 

"Who says you have to?" he asked with a small flirtatious grin. He tore off a hunk of the burger and handed a smaller piece to her. 

She took it from him somewhat hesitantly, their fingers brushing lightly and causing her to duck her head a bit. "Thanks," she whispered. 

Dean held the grin plastered on his face, refusing to be daunted by her shy, unsure response. Maybe it was because of what Sam had told him, he didn't know. But as he watched her nibble on the burger, he had to believe they would find a way to make her better, make her feel safe again. 

"Bet you're regretting a lot of things right now." Her voice was quiet. 

"Like what?" he asked, the curiosity in his voice. 

"Asking me to come along with the two of you." A faint, sad smile touched her lips. "Definitely proving to be more taxing than you expected, I bet." 

"Hey," he said, grasping her chin and pulling it up so he could look at her. "I don't regret you coming along. No matter what you brought with you." His eyes softened at the thought of her staying with them forever. To see her smile again, her eyes glittering when she looked at him... he longed for that. 

Her eyes were glittering, all right. With unshed tears. "Not yet." 

He brushed away a stray tear that traced down her cheek and smiled sadly. "You know what I want most?" he asked, looking into her glistening eyes. 

"What?" she whispered, not quite meeting his gaze. 

"To take your pain away. To see you happy. I think I would like to see that very much." He wondered briefly if he even knew what the hell he was talking about, that he sounded too caring and sharing for his taste. This woman, however, seriously turned his world upside down, however. Maybe something Christmas-y would make her smile. 

Chloe silently lifted her gaze to meet his. The sincerity there made her want to cry for another reason. 

Dean held her gaze, seeing the pools of tears in her green depths, momentarily getting lost in them. The air between them began to crackle with a never-spoken emotion. She wasn't ready for that, but he still wanted to find out. "Do you like Christmas?" he asked suddenly. 

The randomness of the question almost made her chuckle. "I guess." 

A smile tugged at his lips, listening to her laugh. "I know what might help cheer you up a little. Sam's gonna get a tree, and I... I'll bring you something... Christmas-y." He chuckled at his sound stupidity, especially since he didn't know what she'd like. 

"You guys don't have to do that." 

"Yes, we do," he replied, leaning in and kissing her cheek lightly. "Did you know it's Christmas Eve, Chloe?" 

She looked at him, startled. "Are you serious?" she asked, looking dazed. 

Dean nodded, a lazy smile on his face. "Apparently someone wished Sam a Merry Christmas on his way back from the food run." He shrugged. "Who knew? Not like I keep track of those things." 

"Me either these days," she murmured. 

He nodded a little solemnly, though the twinkle in his eyes remained. "Do what's your favorite thing about Christmas?" He couldn't believe he actually sounded excited about this prospect. He blamed it on his insane desire to make her smile. 

The eagerness in his voice made it impossible for her not to smile, even though it was faint. She leaned a little closer to him. "Did you know Santa Claus is real?" 

Leaning in to be slightly closer to her face, he whispered, "He is?" 

"He is," she confirmed, a faint twinkle in her eyes. 

"Guess I'll have to ask him what you want for Christmas, then," he replied with another lazy grin. 

"You think he's psychic?" She smiled a little. 

"I don't know," he replied, looking down at her with a smile in his eyes. "Maybe I should ask him. What's his number?" He whipped out his phone with his free hand and opened it, ready to dial. 

A short chuckle escaped her. "It's not like I have him on speed dial." 

He gave her a mock disappointed look. "Too bad. I was hoping he'd tell me what you want." He closed the phone and put it back into his pocket before turning a goofy smile on her. 

She shook her head slightly. "I didn't realize who he was at first. I mean, I didn't think...you know, that he was...actually Santa Claus," she admitted. 

Dean cocked an amused eyebrow in her direction. "Why? Did he smell weird?" 

Chloe rolled her eyes. "No. But I kinda stopped believing in Santa when I was seven." 

"I... never believed in him." Dean's smile fell and he looked down, drawing his arm from around her shoulders. 

"Never?" she asked softly, her eyes sad. 

Dean nodded, not saying anything for several moments. He thought about those vague memories of his mother, Mary, and how much she'd loved Christmas. And how nothing had been the same after she died. A pained look crossed his features. "Not since Mom died," he said slowly. 

Chloe was silent for a moment. "How uh... how old were you when she..." 

"Four." The word, small as it was, filled his heart with a deep ache. Deep down, he still mourned the fact that his childhood died the night Mary did. 

She reached out and placed a light hand on his arm, rubbing it gently over his skin without thinking about it. "Growing up without her must have been really hard," she whispered. 

"You have no idea," he replied in a sad, husky voice. His eyes strayed to the spot where her hand rested on his arm and smiled sadly. "After she died... Dad wasn't the same. None of us were." 

She lowered her gaze to the bedspread. "I... sort of have an idea," she whispered. 

"Oh yeah?" 

Quiet for a moment, she let out a breath. "My mother didn't die, but she did disappear when I was seven." 

"Seven?" he asked, startling himself out of his reverie. "She just... left?" He touched the hand that rested on his arm. 

"I actually uh... found her a couple years ago," Chloe admitted in a hushed tone. 

Looking at her, he frowned. She looked nearly as downtrodden as if her best friend had died. "She's okay, isn't she?" he asked hesitantly. 

"She's in a mental institution. That's where she's been ever since she left." She didn't look at him. 

He involuntarily flinched. He couldn't help it. A mental institution. She might as well be dead, he thought sadly. "Does she know you?" he asked carefully, taking her hand in his. 

Chloe shook her head wordlessly. 

His heart sank. And he understood. Knew all too well the pain of losing a parent, in any shape and form. He brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed the palm of her hand, unaware of her response or his actions. 

Tears formed on her eyelashes and she looked up at him with sad, but understanding eyes. Wordlessly, she shifted on the bed and slid her arms around him. 

That was the last thing Dean expected, though his arms automatically wound around her slim waist and held her close. He buried his face in her blonde hair and felt her shake with tears a little. 

She rested her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry about your parents," she whispered. 

He nodded slightly, tightening his grip on her a little, not able to let her go at the moment. His eyes burned with the emotions he'd never shed for his mother, making him bury his face into her neck. 

Swallowing hard, she shut her eyes as a tidal wave of need to comfort him hit her full force. She placed a soft kiss against his shoulder without even thinking about it. Her hand lightly stroking the back of his neck. 

Rubbing his cheek against her hair, Dean felt like they were connected somehow, for the first time. They shared something in common. "I'm sorry about your mom," he whispered against her neck, brushing his lips where he had spoken his words. He had never wanted to comfort anyone as badly as he did her in his life. 

A shiver ran through her at the light kiss and as much as her brain was screaming at her to pull away, she stayed right where she was, not letting him go. 

He felt the air change suddenly, becoming electrified with something. He wasn't sure what, but he felt her body shiver slightly. It made him pull her closer to him to keep her warm. 

She felt her heart pounding in her chest, and she rubbed his back lightly, an involuntary reaction. 

While he held her... though he admitted it was really the other way around... the thought struck him that he was seeing more of who she really was. It showed in her actions, especially in her light touch against his back, a simple yet significant motion he couldn't help but enjoy. He smiled slightly against her neck and kissed her there again. 

The breath caught in her throat and she shivered again, her face slightly pale as she reluctantly pulled away from him. 

When Dean looked at her and saw the fright in her eyes, her pale face, he wanted to kick himself for whatever it was he'd done. "I'm sorry," he replied softly, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it gently. 

"No, it's...it's not you," she whispered, her voice sad and tired. 

He cupped her cheek. "In a way, it is," he replied. 

"No, it's not," she said softly, looking at him with sad eyes. "Trust me, it's...it's not at all." She swallowed hard. 

He pulled back, away from her. Giving her space, because his presence seemed to unsettling. He began to wonder if her discomfort and that dream she had the other night was connected. "It's okay, Chloe. I know you're not... you..." He shrugged, putting back on the mask of indifference. "It's... fine." 

"I know you have questions." Chloe's voice was soft. 

'Way too many for my own good', he thought immediately. "Yeah, but..." He thought of something to add but couldn't, so his shoulders slumped a fraction. "Yeah." 

"And I know I owe you answers. Both of you. I just..." She bit her lip. 

"It's okay, Chloe," he interrupted her. "You don't owe us anything. Not really." He hoped, though, that she'd learn to trust him. He and Sam. Someday soon. Sighing, he looked at her honestly. "I'd like to get you something for Christmas." 

She gazed at him, her eyes still sad. "It's really not necessary. You guys have done enough." 

"Not nearly enough," he replied, standing up and gazing at her. "Not even close." The despair had returned to her face, making her crystal green eyes glassy with fear. Something he couldn't look at without wanting to take her into his arms again... something she wouldn't allow again, he mused. 

"It's not like you owe me anything," Chloe whispered. 

"Maybe not, but I'd give nearly anything to take the sadness outta your eyes." The words spilled out before Dean could blink. God, how mushier could he get? he wondered, hoping he'd never have to find out. Not right now, anyway. 

Her eyebrows furrowed a little at his words. "Dean, you're...you're a really great guy," she whispered. 

If he was a blushing man, he probably would have been embarrassed at her words. As it was, he could only smile sadly at her. "Never been called that before." 

"You hide it from people," Chloe told him with a faint, sad smile. "But you shouldn't." 

"Why's that?" he asked, a smile spreading across his features, despite his fight to remain stoic. 

"Because if you don't let anyone close, you're gonna be alone," she whispered. 

The smile fell from his face and he looked down. She'd hit way too close to home. He never realized how perceptive she was... though maybe he was just that transparent. His jaw muscle worked in defeated frustration, his need to change the subject great. 

"Thank Sam for the burger," she said softly. 

He nodded, looking up at her and trying to hide the sudden longing he had inside to tell her everything. How he felt, how much he hated hunting, how much he worried about ending up alone. All of it. But he couldn't open his mouth to speak. 

Chloe slowly met his gaze, holding it and feeling an intense rush of emotions. She could see so much in those eyes that he kept hidden away within himself--fear and sadness and a pain --the depths of which matched if not outdid her own. But there was also something else. A tiny spark of hope. Of fire. 

Dean blinked in surprise at the feelings that passed across her expressive eyes. Those beautiful green eyes. It was almost as if -- as if she could read his every thought and feeling. God, that was what he wanted more than anything. To share his burdens with someone, who would accept them willingly. Something told him she'd be the one. Eventually.

A sudden smile crossed his face. "I'm gonna go out, okay? I... have something to get." Not turning away from her, he made a grab for the door handle. 

"Uh...okay." She looked confused. "Are you all right?" 

He tried taking the goofy grin off his face but couldn't. "Yeah, never been better," he replied, fumbling for the doorknob. He laughed out loud as he managed to grab it and open the door, his eyes still fixed on hers. 

Chloe raised her eyebrows, wondering what exactly he was up to. "O-kay." 

"You should come out and keep Sammy company. He probably needs the company." He winked at her mischievously. 

"What are you up to?" she asked suspiciously, slowly climbing off the bed and feeling more like her normal self than she had in a long time. 

He stood there with the door flung open, his eyes filled with excitement at the idea he'd had for her. He watched her walk towards him with a questioning look. "You've got that look," he said lazily, leaning against the doorjamb. 

"What look?" 

"That journalist look," he replied with a smile. "Like you're hunting down a story." 

"Should I be?" Her eyebrows rose a little farther as she studied him. 

He grinned as she moved closer to him, that curiosity in her eyes betraying just hoe much she wanted to know what he was thinking. "Why should I tell you? Maybe... you'll just have to wait." 

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm really good at finding things out. Especially things I'm not supposed to know." She smirked. 

He crossed his arms. "You won't get anything outta me," he dared, staring into her eyes. 

"Like that's the only way I can find out what you're up to?" A smile tugged at her lips. 

Her smile made him warm inside, and he had no doubt that she had her ways to figure out what he had planned. "Who said anyone else knows?" he retorted with a lazy smile of his own. 

"Who said it requires me interrogating someone?" Her smile widened a little more. 

"Who said you're gonna know right now?" he asked, his challenge accompanying a smirk. 

She leaned a little closer. "Who said I didn't plant a bug on you when I hugged you?" Her voice was light, teasing. Amusement twinkled in her eyes. 

"Who said I'm going to say anything that would give the secret away?" he returned, leaning his head back against the doorjamb to stare at her through slightly closed eyelids. He couldn't get enough of her eyes. 

She grinned. "Who said it was a voice bug? Maybe it's just to keep track of you to keep you outta trouble." 

"Who said I was gonna get myself into trouble?" he teased softly. 

"Just in case." Her eyes twinkled mischievously. 

"You still can't come with me, Chloe." No matter how much I want you to, he thought with a smile. He wanted to bottle her smile and the twinkle in her eyes, because he didn't know when he'd see it again. He hoped soon. 

"Not even if I ask really nicely?" she teased, not even realizing she was actually flirting with him. 

He leaned up and put his face close to hers. "Depends on your definition of 'nicely'." He flashed his best, most flirtatious smile at her. 

The smile on her face slipped, but just a little. "Guess I'll just have to wait and see." 

Dean pulled back to his upright stance, smiling a little triumphantly. "Guess so." He touched her cheek gently. "I won't be long." Turning, he teased her by brushing off his jacket, as if looking for any bugging devices she might have put on him. 

She smiled and watched him go, shaking her head a little. 

Running out into the main room, Dean shouted, "Dude, I'm going out!" 

Sam looked up from where he was trying to stand up the tree he'd gotten. "Going out where?" 

"Gonna get Chloe something," he replied, stopping only long enough to stare at the tree. "Dude, where'd you get that?" 

He grinned. "Dude, we're surrounded by woods." 

"Yeah, well, couldn't you have found a prettier tree? It's.. leaning." 

Sam's face fell a little. "Yeah, well, you find the perfect tree on Christmas Eve," he grumbled. 

"Just make it look good for her, okay?" he replied, putting on his heavy coat. "I'll be back in a little while." He was so excited he felt like he was going to jump out of his skin. 

"Sure," he said, watching his brother head out the door. 

With a light step, Dean raced out the hotel room and out the lobby, even calling out, "Merry Christmas" to anyone who cared to hear him. He felt possessed by something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope. That there might be a future for him after all. He got into the Impala, started her up, and screeched out of the parking lot towards the store he'd been thinking about. He only hoped they'd still be open. 

&&&&&

An hour later, Dean rolled back to the hotel and got out, a couple bags in his hands and a small bouquet of red roses. He hoped she liked what he was able to buy, he thought, walking back into their room. Inside, he found Sam in front of the tree, this time straighter and decorated. "Hey, looks good," he said with a smile. 

"Yeah?" Sam looked over at his brother and then back at the tree, rubbing the back of his neck. It'd been a long while since he'd actually decorated a tree for Christmas. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time. 

"Considering we haven't done this in... hell, I don't know." He put the bags on the kitchen table. "Got dinner... among other things." Dean pulled out a ball of mistletoe and stared at it. He missed the look on Sam's face. 

"Uh, where exactly did you go?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "You've been gone for hours." 

"Not THAT long," he said, glancing at the clock. "I've been... getting some stuff." He had the temerity to look a little sheepish. 

"I see that," Sam replied, looking at the mistletoe. 

"Hey, I'm trying to help cheer Chloe up, okay?" Dean retorted, looking for a place to hang the mistletoe. "Dude, you know how to hang this stuff?" 

"No offense, but I'm not sure that's the way to go about it, Dean." 

He let his hand fall to his side. "What the hell are you talking about?" he smirked in irritation. 

"Mistletoe?" Sam looked at him dubiously. 

"Gee, Sammy, you're a buzz kill." He threw the mistletoe back into a bag and then grabbed the flowers. He picked through the petals, making sure everything was nicely arranged. 

"I hope you know what you're doing, Dude." 

Dean gave Sam a look. "What do you think I'm trying to do?" 

"Get her to fall for you." 

"For once you're wrong." Well... mostly wrong, he thought to himself. "I just wanna see her smile and be happy. For one day. I doubt she'll ever fall for me..." He looked down at the bouquet and idly wondered if he was thinking with his upstairs brain. 

Sam studied him. "You've fallen for her." It wasn't a question. 

That wasn't something Dean wanted to talk about. Especially not with Sam right now. "Where is she?" he asked. 

Sighing inwardly, he nodded toward the bedroom. "Last I checked she was surfing the net." 

"Thank you." Sighing a little nervously, he walked to her door and knocked. Putting the flowers behind her, he waited. A little too nervously. 

"Come in," she called, not looking up from where she lay on her bed. 

Dean opened the door to find Chloe lying on her bed, her laptop in hand. "Finding anything interesting?" he asked quietly, though he wasn't surprised to find her nose in research. 

She glanced up, startled at his voice. "Hey, you're back." She grinned. 

"Yeah, told you I'd be back." He stepped into the room and closed the door. And cleared his throat a couple times, not sure how to continue. He fidgeted with the roses behind his back, having never done this before. 

"So where *did* you go?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. 

"A couple places. Got some grub, ya know." He took a deep breath and revealed the bouquet he was holding. "Picked something up for you." He couldn't meet her eyes, as an attack of shyness overcame him. 

Chloe's eyes widened in surprise and she gazed at him with soft eyes. "Dean," she whispered. 

Closing the distance between them, he sat down on the bed near her and handed them over. "It's nothing," he whispered, secretly pleased by her response. "Merry Christmas... and thank you, too." 

"For what?" she asked softly, taking the flowers from him and inhaling their scent, a soft smile on her face. 

"For puttin' up with me," he replied, watching her with a sense of awe at the look on her face. Grinning, he realized she hadn't found what was hiding within the petals. He coughed but said nothing, enjoying her smile and soft eyes. 

"Well, I kinda think it's been the other way around," she said, looking at him offering him a wry smile. 

He snorted with amusement. "I'll take you over me any day." He looked pointedly at the bouquet, waiting for her reporter instincts to kick in. 

She followed his gaze, her eyebrows furrowing a little and then peered closely into the center of the bouquet. A laugh escaped her. "You bugged my flowers!" 

Dean watched with an unknown emotion crossing his heart as she pulled the bugging device and wireless connection out of the middle of the bouquet. "Just in case you need it to chase a story," he whispered gruffly. The light in her eyes and smile was worth all the hassle he had gone through to obtain it. 

She met his eyes once more, a feeling of warmth washing over her. "You're incredibly sweet," she whispered back. 

He met her gaze and grinned warmly at her. "Thank you," he replied, a little blown away by her reaction. Sam's voice whispered in his mind: 'You've fallen for her.' The realization of the truth in his brother's words hit him squarely between the eyes. It was true. What he'd been feeling... was love. 

"No...thank you," Chloe said softly, setting the flowers down and touching his cheek lightly with one hand. She pressed a soft kiss to his other cheek. 

Leaning into her, Dean felt the burn of her lips against his skin, the touch of her hand against his other cheek soft and reassuring. His hands itched to pull her into another embrace but he refrained. He was enjoying her response too much to scare her away with his need to touch her. 

She slowly pulled away from him, offering him a soft smile. And wishing like hell she'd met him first. 

"Mikey, I think she likes it," he replied with a wry, playful smile. He saw a hidden thought behind her eyes, almost a look of regret over something from her troubled past... but it vanished almost as soon as it appeared. 

A soft chuckle escaped her. "I think this is the most thoughtful gift anyone's ever given me." 

Standing, he chuckled softly. "What girl's complete without her own personal bugging system?" 

She was quiet for a moment. "I don't have anything for you," she whispered. 

It was his turn to smile broadly at her, the twinkle in his eyes returning for a moment. "You've already given me something," he whispered softly. 

Looking puzzled, she tilted her head to the side a little. "What?" 

"This is gonna sound corny but... watching your reaction, seeing your smile? Definitely the gift I had in mind." He held out his hand. "Come on, got something else to show you." 

Chloe slowly climbed off the bed, hesitantly sliding her hand into his and gazing up at him with bright green eyes. 

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna bite," he joked, leading her out into the main room, to where Sam sat, laptop in hand, in front of the slightly decorated tree.

Sam looked up from his latest Google search, a little concerned at seeing Dean holding Chloe's hand. His belief had just been confirmed, but he was glad to see a new light in her eyes. "Hey, Chlo," he said with a smile. "Like the tree?" 

Her smile widened. "It's beautiful. Where'd you find it?" 

"The forest," he said, giving Dean a pointed look.

Releasing her hand and shooting Sam an aggravated look in return, he said, "Yeah, it's not bad... for something that's short notice." 

Noticing the tension that passed between them, her eyebrows furrowed a little. "Well, I think it looks great. You guys are too much." Her voice was soft and she moved to sit on the sofa. 

"Nah, not too much," Sam replied, shooting Dean another knowing smirk. He wondered what it would take for his brother to whip out the mistletoe.

Ignoring the look he kept getting from across the room, Dean went into the kitchen. "You guys hungry? I'm starving." He dug into the bags of food and pulled out actual food: a chicken and mashed potatoes. 

She wasn't really hungry but she didn't want either of them worrying about her. "I could eat something." 

"Really?" Dean said, a little surprised. Smiling, he said, "I can fix up a plate for you."

Sam glanced down at his laptop, then shut it. He stood up and walked over to Dean. "Cut it out, dude," he whispered.

Ignoring Sam, he brought a plate of food to Chloe, sitting down beside her. "I know you won't finish all this, so... thought I could help you." 

She looked at him, her eyes soft in the firelight. "Okay." 

Sam couldn't help but frown at Dean and Chloe's interaction. It had nothing to do with jealousy, he reminded himself, although he was more concerned about when Dean's heart would be stomped on. As much as he liked Chloe himself, he didn't see her able to commit herself to someone as intense as his brother. He hovered in the kitchen, lost in thought.

Dean, meanwhile, returned Chloe's look with a soft smile, picking up a fork and putting some food onto it. He then held it up for her to eat. 

She gazed at him for a long moment, then slowly accepted the bite of chicken, watching as he fed himself a bite. She wondered what she was doing and she felt her heart sink. 

Poor Chloe. 

Sensing that feeding her was probably the wrong thing to do, Dean handed her another fork. "Brought one for you," he said, trying to hide his disappointment. 

"Thanks," she said quietly, dropping her gaze from his. She felt Sam's gaze upon them and glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, he was watching them silently from the kitchen. Shifting uncomfortably, she drew in a breath. "You want something to drink?" she asked as she stood up slowly. 

Dean nodded, looking up. "Yeah, whatever's fine," he said, oblivious to the curious looks coming from the kitchen.

Sam was aware that Chloe noticed his watching them, especially since she came into the kitchen with an odd look in her eyes. He went through the motions of getting something to eat. 

"You okay?" she asked quietly, moving to get a couple of glasses from the cupboard. 

He hesitated for a split second. "Yeah, I'm good. Why do you ask?" 

"You were kinda...staring intently." She paused and turned to look at him. "In my experience that generally means someone has something they want to say but aren't sure they should." 

He grimaced involuntarily and looked away, staring at Dean. "Anyone told you how perceptive you are?" he asked absently. 

"A few times," she answered, leaning back against the counter and gazing at him. 

"It's not my place to say anything." Yet, he finished silently, still not looking at her. He took a bite of food without much thought of anything else. He didn't want to see either of them get hurt. 

"Look...whatever it is. I can handle it, Sam." Her voice was quiet, steady. "So just...tell me what's on your mind." 

He glanced over at her, surprise in his eyes. "You sure you want to know?" he asked in a low voice. 

Chloe held his gaze, nodding slowly. 

Looking back at his brother, Sam whispered, "Chloe, I think Dean's in love with you, and he's trying to win your affection." 

She stared at him, stunned, then shifted her gaze to where Dean was sitting, her heart sinking even more. She shut her eyes, slowly rubbing one hand over her face. "Oh," she whispered. 

Sam said nothing in response: he felt her shock and frowned inwardly. Dean didn't have a chance, he thought with a pained expression.

At that moment, Dean happened to look over at them, noticing both Sam's and Chloe's gazes on him: the former with a numb look on her face and the latter with a defeated one. "Who died?" he asked aloud.

Probably your love life, Sam thought, but said nothing. 

"No one," Chloe said, tucking some hair behind her ear as she attempted to recover from the shock. "You want water or lemonade?" she asked, turning to the fridge. 

"A beer, if we have it," he replied, suddenly feeling a shift in the room's atmosphere. A dark shift. He turned a curious eye to Sam, who continued to stare at him. "What, dude?"

Saying nothing, Sam left the room and headed for the door. Opening it, he disappeared. 

&&&&&

At three in the morning, Chloe still found herself awake and staring at the ceiling above her bed. She couldn't stop thinking about what Sam had told her. Dean was in love with her. Was he right?

Slowly sitting up, she replayed every interaction she'd had with the older Winchester brother since they'd met. She didn't know about love, but he definitely seemed interested in her. A bone deep weariness settled upon her at the thought. The last thing she was ready for was a romantic relationship with anyone. Even if that person was as great as Dean was. Raking a hand through her hair, she slowly climbed out of bed and made her way down the hall toward the kitchen. Maybe some milk would soothe her to sleep, she thought tiredly. She paused when she spotted Sam on the sofa, staring intently at his laptop. "Hey," she said quietly, coming up behind him. 

Sam couldn't sleep, and thankfully Dean hadn't bothered trying to follow him to find out just how badly he had messed things up with this infatuation of his with Chloe. No, he mentally corrected himself. It was love. He was sure of it. And now that Chloe knew...

He tried to focus on the email he'd just opened but was startled by Chloe's soft voice. He turned to find her behind him. "Hey," he said, a carefully blank look on his face. "Can't sleep, huh?" 

"Not really," Chloe admitted softly, moving to sit down on the sofa beside him. 

"Hardly surprising," he replied with a sad sigh. "Sorry about... earlier." He turned back to stare sightlessly at his laptop screen. 

"Are you?" She turned her head to look at him intently. 

"Yes, I am," he replied, not looking back at her. "I did warn you, though." 

A faint smile touched her lips. "Yeah, well...my idea of proceeding with caution is to put myself right in the middle of everything." 

"You seem to be there now, Chloe," he replied with a smirk, looking away from the screen to glance at her. "I'm guessing that's why you're out here instead of sleeping?" He wondered how she'd reacted to Dean after he'd left for that extra long walk. 

She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them and gazing into the fire in the fireplace. "You guessed right." 

"So, like I said... I'm sorry." He watched her pull her body as far into herself as she could before turning back to his laptop screen. He felt shame for blurting out what he had. 

"No, don't be...it's...it's good I know." She fell silent. 

Sam nodded, his guilt complex coming back full force. "Yeah, at least you can break his heart gently," he whispered to himself. 

Chloe flinched at his words that she was pretty sure he didn't mean for her to hear. "That's not what I wanna do," she whispered. 

Startled that she'd heard him, Sam sighed, looking at Dean's door. "No? Then what happens when you don't feel the same way he does, Chloe?" 

She shut her eyes, resting her forehead against her knees. "I like your brother. He seems like a great guy." 

"He IS a great guy," he returned in a whisper. "I've never seen him like this before." 

Something clicked in the back of her mind and she slowly unfurled her legs and stood up. 

Sam watched her stand up, a frown creasing his brow. "What is it?" he asked, curious yet wondering if he'd said something that might have triggered her brainwashing again. 

"You're right." Her voice was soft and she smiled sadly, tucking some hair behind her ear. "This isn't fair to him."

"But that's just my opinion," he replied, staring at her. "I don't know that Dean even *knows* he has feelings for you." And if you leave, I don't know if I could handle the fallout, he thought miserably. 

She was quiet for a moment. "If he doesn't...he would soon," she whispered. "And...I can't..." She shook her head a little, her eyes haunted with sadness that ran very deep. 

Sam stood up and went over to her. "Look, Chloe, I know you've been hurt... maybe that's an understatement... but don't let my big mouth and Dean's feelings get in the way of... your healing." 

"I'll be okay," she said quietly, touching his arm and slowly heading for her room. 

He stared after her, watching her quietly pad back to her room and shut the door behind her. He was determined to stay awake now, afraid that, come morning, she'd be gone. Sitting at his laptop, he made himself focus on the email he'd tried to read several times before Chloe came out... and stared in shock as he realized who it was from.

The morning couldn't come quickly enough, he thought, scanning the email and hitting Google again, this time searching for something besides Chloe's continuing symptoms. 

Less than an hour later, Chloe reappeared, this time fully dressed, her bag and her purse over her shoulder. Inside the bag she'd placed the roses Dean had got her, but she'd left the bug on the bed, along with a note. Feeling drained and exhausted, she headed down the hallway, her footsteps barely audible. Too bad it didn't matter--Sam was still sitting on the sofa. Awake. Dammit. Despite the fact he was faced away from her, she knew there was no way she'd make it out the door without him being aware of it. 

Just as he had predicted, Sam noticed a movement out of the corner of his eyes and looked up to see Chloe, her things packed and eyes wide at the sight of him sitting there. "Thought you might try that," he said, smiling wryly. 

"There's no trying," she said softly. "I've called a cab already. I'm not...really great with goodbyes, so..." She bit her lip, slowly heading for the door. 

He leapt up and ran for the door, putting his body between her and the door. He crossed his arms. "Is this how you ran last time, Chlo?" he asked. 

Her body tensed a little. "Yes. But for different reasons." 

"Maybe, but you're still running." He knew he wasn't helping her frame of mind, but there was no way he was gonna let her go. Especially since Dean wasn't up yet. 

"So what?" Chloe's gaze was steely. 

"So what?" he demanded. "So plenty. Running the hell away never solved anything." 

"Sometimes it does." 

He stepped aside from the door, taking a deep breath. "Alright. Run away, then. Just don't kill me when Dean decides to take after you when he finds out you're gone." He stared at the frightened look on her face and feared she might actually run. 

"Sam, you're the one who said..." Tears stung her eyes. "I don't wanna hurt him. And me staying is only gonna do just that." 

"Exactly," he replied. "I said it. It's just what I think... doesn't mean it's the truth." He looked at her and lowered his voice. "Now I wonder if you even have feelings for him. Of any kind." He put his head down, tired suddenly from the long night, the email... and the belief that he'd found out what was wrong with Chloe. 

She reeled back as if he'd hit her. "If I didn't, then I wouldn't give a damn how he felt about me." She moved past him, hand on the doorknob. 

Sam knew when it was time to stay out of the way, so he let her go. Watching the door slam behind him, he muttered, "Dean's gonna kill me." He turned around to sit and found his brother at the doorway, looking groggy with sleep and leaning against the doorjamb for support.

"Sammy?" Dean asked gruffly, "what are you doing up?" 

"Chloe's leaving," he blurted out, motioning to the door. 

"What?!" He snapped awake immediately, wondering what in the world could have made her up and bolt like that... Snatching a shirt and jacket, he yanked them on and glared at Sam. "What'd you do?" 

"I tried to talk her out of it, Dean!" 

"Yeah, you did a bang up job of it too, dude," he snapped, passing by Sam and through the still open door. He raced down the hotel hallway and into the lobby, just in time to see Chloe get into a taxi. He raced outside, impervious to the cold as he started banging on the taxi window to stop. 

Chloe turned her head to look at him through the window, her eyes sad. "I'm sorry," she mouthed. 

"No!" he shouted, pounding on the taxi window, the door, then the trunk. Apparently the cap driver was deaf, because it didn't stop. He tried running after it but nearly slipped on a patch of ice. Skidding to a halt, he watched Chloe drive away. Felt his stomach sink and his heart break. "Chloe," he whispered, confused and hurt. 

&&&&&

Dean dragged his way back to the hotel, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut and his heart literally removed from his chest. He slowly walked into the hotel room, missing her presence already. "What happened?" he asked himself, not aware that Sam had been pacing the room waiting for his return. 

Sam felt sick and he wasn't sure which made it worse--Chloe actually leaving--or how Dean was going to react when he found out why she'd left. He swallowed hard, looking at his brother. "Chloe knows how you feel about her." 

For a moment, he looked at Sam blankly, the hole in his stomach still aching too much to realize his brother had actually said something to him. About Chloe. And... his feelings? "What?" he rasped in a new growl, looking at Sam with piercing eyes. 

He shut his eyes for a moment. "Look, I just...I didn't wanna see you get hurt, Dean. Not after everything with...Dad and..." 

"Who the hell said ANYTHING about getting hurt, SAMMY?" he replied, moving towards his brother and balling his fists. Did he not understand that this might actually be worse than losing Dad? "What the hell did you tell her?" 

Sam flinched a little. "Just that...you had feelings for her," he answered, hedging the truth a little. "Which I'm pretty sure she knew anyway!" 

Dean lifted his hands in frustration and denial. "Wonderful, Sammy. Just... great!" He started pacing back and forth. "Wanna tell me why you decided to tell her something you knew nothing about? Huh?" Deep down, though, he felt like his missing heart had been smashed to pieces, because if she'd left, it meant... 

"Because she asked, Dean! And I told her it was just what I thought. And I'm not wrong. You've fallen for her." 

"What, is your ESP working overtime with me?" he snapped, pacing a hole into the carpet. 

"No, but I know you. And I've never seen you like this, Dean. Not even with..." He cut himself off and shook his head. 

"And how am I?" Dean growled, not ready to admit his feelings out loud. Especially since he just realized he honestly had them. His eyes were dark with fire, anger... hurt and betrayal. Why did Sam do that? he wondered. 

"Ready to jump headfirst into a relationship with a woman you barely know who's obviously running from something bad in her past," Sam answered evenly. "And that's not a setup that tends to end well." 

He stopped pacing and stared at his brother for two seconds before kicking back his fist and punching his brother in the face. Watching his brother fall back a little, he replied, "Do you see me jumping, dammit?" 

Sam held his jaw, looking at Dean with an unreadable expression. "Yes. I do." 

Looking back at his brother, he said, "You're a pain in my ass, you know that?" 

"I'm trying to look out for you," he said quietly. 

Closing his eyes, he whispered, "I know you are... so what's next?" Now that she was gone, there was no point in remaining her any longer. And as much as he wanted to follow her, go after her... something told him that if she didn't want to be found, he'd never find her. No matter how good a hunter he was. 

Sam let out a breath, feeling tired and guilty and worried. And not just about his brother. He was worried about Chloe too. Because now she was all alone out there somewhere, no one to watch her back and he suddenly felt like the world's worst asshole. "I uh...I got an email from Sarah," he said quietly. "Apparently there's some trouble up her way." 

"Sarah, huh?" he asked with a faint, sad smile. "Might as well go. Bet you're dying to see her again." 

"Dean..." 

Ignoring his brother, he headed back to his room to get his things packed. He paused, however, at the empty room across from his. The one that had been Chloe's. He opened the door, finding it empty, save for the bugging device he had given her only hours ago. With a sad smile, Dean stepped inside and picked it up, wondering why she'd bother taking the flowers and not take the better of the two gifts, in his opinion. Sitting on the bed, he fiddled with the small device until he realized there was a note lying under where she'd placed the bugging piece. He picked it up and started to open it. 

_Dean,_

_I'm sorry for just leaving. I've never been good with goodbyes...I just wanted to tell you thank you. It's heartening to know there are still some decent guys in the world, watching over the rest of us. I think you may need this more than me. Take care of yourself._

_Chloe_

Crumpling the paper in his hand, Dean threw the note against the wall, pissed and hurt. He knew she was running again, probably because his loud-mouthed brother didn't know when to keep his trap shut. Clutching the bugging device, he stood up and left her room, closing the door behind him and moving into his room to pack his things. 

Chloe had been over halfway to the local train station when she'd started hearing Sam's voice in her head once more. "Is this how you ran before?" It echoed in her mind over and over until her head started to ache. She swallowed hard. He'd called her on that. She'd left Smallville without a word to anyone--and none of them had any idea where she was. She remembered the year that Clark had left town, had seemingly vanished into thin air, scaring everyone who cared about him. And she remembered how angry and hurt she'd been, even after she'd found him. Swallowing hard, she shut her eyes. "I have to go back to the hotel." 

The driver looked at her in the rearview. "Are you sure?" 

She hesitated only a moment. "I'm sure," she whispered. 

It didn't take Dean long to pack his stuff. Shoving things violently into a bag usually meant being able to shove more into it. Not bothering to zip it closed, he walked out the door and into the main room, where he found Sam still at his laptop, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. "I'm sorry about that," he whispered, chucking his bag over his shoulder. "You ready?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm..." Sam looked up at the still open front door, his eyes widening a little when he spotted Chloe standing there silently, looking more than a little nervous. 

"Chloe?" Dean barely uttered the words, he was so surprised to see her there. Feeling all kinds of awkward suddenly, he looked away and towards the tree that was still lit up with the lights Sam had put on them not twelve hours ago.

Sam, on the other hand, could have hugged her from the sheer relief he felt at seeing her there. "You're back," he said, smiling widely. 

"I shouldn't have left," she whispered, not looking at Sam. Her eyes were locked on Dean, guilt apparent on her face. 

Dean couldn't look at her, just kept a firm grip on the handles of his bag so they wouldn't slip out of his trembling hand. "Nice to know. We're leaving, so you gonna come with us or not?" he asked softly, trying to keep his voice emotionless. 

Chloe swallowed hard. "Sam, can you...can you give us a minute?" she asked softly. 

"I can give you several," Sam coughed, moving past Dean with a look of concern on his face.

He didn't know why she was here. It had just only occurred to him that she had left because she couldn't handle the fact that he liked her. A lot. And he had no desire to let her see just how much that had cut into him. 

She slowly set her bags down on the floor. "Can we sit down?" she whispered, moving a little closer to him. 

It took Dean a moment to realize she'd spoken, much less was waiting for a response. Nodding, still not looking at her, he dropped his bag heavily and sat down into the nearest chair. Even then, he kept his eyes downcast. 

Feeling slightly sick, she sat down on the sofa, staring at the floor. "I’m sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have taken off. My head's not exactly… in a good place." 

He didn't know how to respond to that, because he knew where her head was... knew it and yet acted like a total fool around her anyway. Because he wanted her to be happy for even a few hours. "Sammy tellin' stories isn't helping either," he remarked in a low, serious voice... trying to be casual about it but failing miserably in his mind. 

She lifted her gaze to look at him. "So you don't have feelings for me?" she asked very quietly. 

Dean inhaled sharply and dared to look at her. And when his eyes met hers, he immediately felt an undercurrent of some emotion that seemed to flow between them. He didn't have a name for it, either: that was the scary part. "I didn't say that," he admitted quietly. 

"Then I have to be honest with you," she whispered, dropping her gaze once more. 

Ahh, here it comes, he thought, his eyes dropping back to his hands. Here comes the part where she tells me it's never going to work, I'm too good for her... we could still be friends. That last thought almost made him snicker softly to himself. "Okay," he replied, taking a deep breath. 

"I like you. A lot." She swallowed hard, still not looking at him. "But I'm not ready to be with anyone right now. I just...I don't want you to..." She bit her lip. 

Surprise registered on his features as his head shot up and he looked into her troubled, yet honest eyes. "Who said I expect a relationship out of this? Can't I just..." he rasped, his voice heavy with emotion. He didn't understand why she was admitting this to him. He didn't dare hope for anything. 

"Because I know what it's like to be dragged along hoping and I don't wanna do that to you." Her eyes glittered with tears as she looked at him. 

He sighed in frustration. "Thanks for the head's up, but I gotta say, hope isn't something I'm used to having." He mustered a smile. "So don't worry. I'm not expecting anything from you, Chloe. Nothing but your friendship." I'll learn to keep my emotions in check, he told himself. 

"Are you sure?" she whispered uncertainly, looking down at the floor once more. 

He stared at her but didn't say anything. He couldn't... because he wasn't sure about anything anymore. Not since he met her. He wanted her around, no matter what the cost to his heart or his life. Watching her down turned face, he couldn't keep his heart from pounding in his chest. 

"For what it's worth, I am sorry," Chloe whispered, sadness in her voice. 

He looked down and away from her. "For what?" he retorted grimly. He didn't want her pity, and what he wanted... well, he'd probably never get. 

"Everything." Her shoulders were slumped. 

"So am I," he whispered to himself, standing up. "Look, Sammy and I are taking off for New York... wanna come?" He wanted to look at her but couldn't. 

Chloe was silent for a moment. "Do you want me to?" she asked quietly, also rising to her feet and lifting her gaze to meet his once more. 

The uncertainty in her eyes made him feel like he'd been sucker punched. "I'm asking you to come, so... yes." 

"Okay," she whispered. "Then...I'll come."

"Good," he whispered, managing to smile at her before turning away. "I'd ask if your bags were packed, but guess they already are." He pulled out the bugging device he'd given her from his jacket pocket and moved to her. "You might need this, though." 

She gazed at it for a moment, then slowly reached out and took it from him, their fingers brushing against each other. "Thank you." 

Dean hated the way the slightest touch made his breath hitch in his throat. Clearing it, he stepped back quickly and smile faintly. "Welcome." Turning around he yelled, "Sammy, get your ass out here, dude! Time to get a move on!"

"Okay, already!" Sam shouted from his room, walking out with the rest of his things. "Shout louder, so the next county can hear you." He smiled shyly at Chloe, still feeling pangs of guilt over the problems he had inadvertently caused. 

She managed to give him a faint smile in return. "So New York, huh?" 

"Yeah, New York. A friend of mine needs some help."

Dean managed to waggle his eyebrows a little. "Come on, Sammy, admit it. You wanna see Sarah again."

Sam shot his brother a glance. "Maybe," he mused with a small smile. 

"Sarah?" A small smile tugged at her lips as she followed them toward the door, grabbing her bags off the floor. 

"Sarah Blake, art dealer," Sam explained as he led them out of the hotel lobby and to the Impala. He waited for Dean to pop the trunk to put his stuff in.

"We met her... what... last year?" Dean asked as he opened the trunk and then went around to unlock the doors. "Nice looking girl. Had the serious hots for College Boy, here." 

"And the feeling was mutual." Chloe tucked some hair behind her ear, placing her bags in the trunk, except her purse. She cast Sam a sidelong glance, still smiling softly. 

"Dude, it was just a kiss," he protested, glaring at Dean as he walked around and held the door open for Chloe to move into the backseat. "Not like I really thought she'd email me and ask for help."

"No, but clearly you gave her your email, which meant you were hoping she'd contact you," Dean replied from the driver's seat, a small smug look on his face. 

A soft, almost inaudible chuckle escaped her lips. "What exactly is she needing help with?" 

Sam shrugged. "Haven't a clue. She just said she needed us out there ASAP."

Starting the engine and listening to the Impala purr to life, Dean felt instantly recharged with enough life to see him through the next day. "Sure it wasn't because she just wanted an excuse to see you, Sammy boy?"

Sam hit his brother hard on the arm. "Shut up," he growled. 

She grinned and shook her head a little. She had a feeling it was going to be a long, long ride to New York.


End file.
